Calming Troubled Waters
by MariePierre
Summary: Craig is the tentative leader of a seafaring group of young adults set on survival in a post-apocalyptic US. When they begin a trip to the northern coast of Maine they find something that could potentially change their withdrawn Captain. AU eventual Creek
1. Introduction

**Chapter 1: Introduction**

**AN: This fic is tentatively rated T, but may change for later chapters, however this fic will mostly be on the higher spectrum of T. This chapter may contain violent content, please read at your own discretion.**

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><p>It was quiet.<p>

There was only the rattling of plastic bottles brushing up against the boat with the tide as the water crashed and fell. The brackish breeze, tainted with pollution, fluttered through the makeshift sail.

A man no older than 22 stood over the bow watching the fog dissipate as the sun hugged the horizon. He had a shaggy mop of black hair swept out of his piercing blue eyes from the briny air. His face was rough with stubble from the lack of a sharpened razor and his hands were just as rough if not rougher. He was a Colorado boy, about as far way from home as he could be; but he felt more at home on the water than he ever did in the mountains. He did keep one item of nostalgia from the cold mountains; a blue chullo hat with a yellow puffball. It was the only thing he held onto from his past, his one comfort item. His name was Craig Tucker, and he'd travelled over 2,000 miles to the northern east coast to escape the madness.

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><p>It was probably around the year 2020, but he couldn't be sure, he'd spent so long on the sea that he didn't care for counting the days and opted for counting the seasons instead. Life had radically changed since he was a kid. Everything was broken, the world had just, fallen apart. The catalyst was the year 2012; after a series of freak natural disasters everyone's paranoia about the apocalypse set the streets aflame with rebels. The government tried to contain the situation but they had their own problems trying to barter with other countries over resources. This should have worked, but when chaos and fear have evoked the people, they become stupid. They become blind to what the right path should be and instead become defensive, selfish, and aggressive. Chaos breeds chaos, and that's what the world became.<p>

Then, people started dying.

War, disease, hunger, thirst. The world's resources couldn't maintain the massive population, and they started dying. From the perspective of an 11 year old, it was terrifying. His family was in constant fear of death, or worse. Years passed and they had taken up a comfortable life in an abandoned house's basement; Craig became used to his humble life.

The disaster brought his family closer than they'd ever been, and even his sister Ruby whom he thought was a little twat, started to get closer to him. They bonded over how similar they were attitude-wise; they could be sarcastic to each other and actually enjoy it. Without any other kids their age they clung to each other, they were each others' best friend. They would flip each other off and spew out a barrage of sardonic insults, resulting in a long drawn out discussion of pleasant mockery. Craig became comfortable living with his family, but everything came crashing down when Nomads raided their home.

They took Craig's mother, after they beat her in the head a couple times. He can still remember the way her body went limp and then dragged her out by her hair. They shot his father in the face as he tried to charge them; his father's blood and brain matter had sprayed over him and his sister Ruby. He was holding tight to her, trying to conceal her, but the nomads grabbed her from him while they held him down. He fought viciously to get out of their grip to get his sister but to no avail. He could only watch as they inspected her.

"She's not bad looking, a bit young, not too skinny." Their greedy eyes darted up and down Ruby's body; a disgusting smile crept over their features. They would probably use her to reproduce. Craig felt sick to his stomach thinking about how they would violate his sister; those depraved sons-of-bitches. He struggled to get free of their grip.

"I swear to god if you lay one finger on her—" The men pushed his head into the dirt of their floor.

"Yeah, but…hang on," Ruby coughed a bit as she cried. "You hear that? She's sick, she won't last the winter."

"Well, shit, I don't suppose we could dry her, yeah?" Craig's stomach dropped as he interpreted his sister's fate.

"DON'T YOU FUCKING TOUCH HER, YOU FUCKING HEAR ME? I'LL-" His threats fell silent as they beat him until he could hardly see or hear. He tried to scream but nothing would come out. They laid Ruby on the floor with her face down; he could hear Ruby's choked up plea's for Craig's help.

"Craig, I don't want to die." She sobbed, Craig tried to lift his body again but it was useless. She turned her head towards Craig, barrel pointed to the back of her head. Her eyes were clouded with tears, and she was trembling like he'd never seen before.

"Craig—"

There was the sharp resonating boom of gun fire.

Then she stopped moving, and right before his eyes his sister was dead. Her eyes still glued to his, but with no signs of life. It was the most evocative and horrifying sight he'd ever witnessed. They dragged her out of the basement, and left him there. They took almost all of their food and supplies they could use on the road. He remembers them talking about how he was too skinny, and he'd be useless to bring along; so they left him.

They left him lying in a pool of his own family's blood.

So he ran.

He ran with a backpack full of necessities, and his blue chullo hat. Their family had a secret stash of goods just in case; the Nomads thankfully hadn't found it. He followed the highways to the northeast. Alone. He had enough survival experience to get by, and enough know-how to slip past any rebels or nomads. He wasn't sure what he would find at the coast, but what he wanted was to escape inland.

When he started to smell the ocean air, was when he finally started to relax. He'd only visited the ocean a few times in his life, but it was always comforting. He loved the water, and when he heard the waves crashing against the sea cliffs, he knew he was home.

He camped around the coast for another few years, learning how to live with the ocean. He learned how to fish, how to extract fresh water from salt water, how to tell when a storm was coming. The sea had a calming effect, no matter its fury, there was always something static about it that Craig found reassuring. His personality was as tasteless as tree-bark, and truly tried to avoid everything that was troublesome. He preferred routine, boring, stationary. Where everything else in his life had gone to shit, the ocean was something he could rely on. He could always count on the tides and the waves to be constant; there was no uncertainty like other aspects to his life.

He did think of the old times, and he missed his family terribly. He missed his mother, his father, his sister, his guinea pig. He was literally all alone. Which, even for a solitary person like Craig can really do harm to your psyche. It wasn't until he ran into another boy his age that he honestly understood how deprived of human interaction he really was.

The boy was sitting on a dock tangling his feet into the receding water line. He was visibly trembling and he could hear soft sobs coming from him. Craig watched him from afar for a few minutes unsure of how to approach the boy. He'd spent so many years running away from people that his first instinct was to flee. But this boy was alone, and he didn't seem so bad. So against his better judgment he approached the boy cautiously and called out to him in his monotone voice.

"Hey, you ok?" The boy on the dock whipped around frantically almost falling off the wooden structure.

"Who the fuck are you?" Craig noticed the boy's brown hair was cut sloppily like he had done it himself. Craig instantly put his hands up in a non-threatening gesture.

"Easy, I'm alone, there's no one else with me. It's just me." The boy relaxed only slightly but his guard was still up.

"Oh yeah? Well how do I know you aren't lying? How do I know if I can trust you?" Craig only stared at him.

"My name is Craig Tucker, I'm from Colorado, what's your name?" the way the words rolled off his tongue it felt odd. He hadn't spoken to anyone in so long it was like words were completely foreign to him.

"What?" the brunette asked, looking around for a way out.

"From what I re-call, small talk is how people get know each other. Then you can decide if you can trust me or not." The brunette seemed flabbergasted, so Craig sat down slowly sure to not make any implication that he was there to harm him. For a few moments the two sat in silence, Craig was ok with that. After a while the boy loosened up a little and sat comfortably on the dock, still far enough away from Craig.

"Clyde. My name is Clyde."

Craig had never been so happy to speak to someone in his entire life. For years he ignored people and didn't socialize; he was naturally an asshole. People didn't get his sarcastic nature. But right now, Craig was eager to speak to this new person, Clyde. He soon found out after Clyde had gotten more comfortable with him, how much he could actually gab. But Craig sat there and listened, he didn't want to push him away.

The rest was history, and the two became extremely good friends. Craig found out that they compliment each other quite well. Clyde was a talkative, annoying, loyal son-of-a-bitch, while Craig was a quiet, sarcastic, asshole. Clyde could take Craig's bitter comments while Craig could deal with his non-stop jabber. They were what each other needed at the time. A friend.

It wasn't very long until more people started showing up; which, coincidentally, they were around the same age. While Craig tried not to say anything unnecessary, Clyde welcomed them all into their makeshift community. At least Craig could trust Clyde do the talking, however he did regret it sometimes. Clyde wasn't the smoothest talker.

The people they welcomed included two boys that travelled with each other named Stan and Kyle, a girl from the area named Wendy, another girl from New York called Bebe, a boy named Token, a boy who preferred to be called "Butters", a guy named Kenny, and a fat boy named Eric.

Craig was appointed the tentative "leader" of their group, because he had the most knowledge about living on the ocean. He was able to teach the others some of the tricks of the trade, but he could always read the tides and weather much better than anyone else could. The raven-haired boy liked his patchwork family, well, more like tolerated, but he could at least rely on them to get work done in order to help the entire group.

But there must have been someone looking out for him. Because one day he stumbled upon his greatest find yet. He was searching the beach after a particularly strong set of waves throughout the night and he saw something that he thought was a dream.

There, sitting among the docks was an immaculate fishing vessel.

Craig actually had to rub his eyes to make sure that it was real. It was a bit rusted around some of the trim, and it had taken a bit of a beating probably from tossing around the ocean. But to Craig it was a god send. He vigilantly loomed closer to the rocking boat, in order to confirm its abandonment. He pulled himself over the bow and plopped onto the deck as quietly as he could. He checked every closet, corridor, and cockpit; there was no one aboard the boat.

Craig couldn't help the strange grin that spread across his face.

No one had ever seen him this way, but in this private moment of joy he could hardly contain the emotion that pulsated through him. This was _his_ boat, and it was sent here for a reason. He took it as a sign from someone up there who was watching over him.

He decided to name the ship Ruby.

The other's asked about it, but Craig never revealed the reason, or who Ruby was. It only added mystery to Craig; no one could get him to talk about who he was before the disaster, not even Clyde. He was stoic and enigmatic; and the only thing he cared to speak about was the ocean.

The boat had two sleeping chambers with bunk beds. It was tight but they all fit. Craig however, slept in the top chamber of the boat where the steering was. He felt that it was necessary for someone to be above deck in order to keep watch. The boat may have drifted to them without people, but he wanted to make sure it stayed that way. After dealing with everyone all day, even though he could admit it was ok, it was nice to have alone time. He was able to watch out the windows and listen to the calming sway of the water. When he was tired he had a ratty futon that he could roll out on the floor to sleep.

Fortunately he found that his group was at least helpful. Wendy and Kyle were very intelligent; they helped design the add-on mast and sail to propel the vessel since gasoline was a rarity these days. Bebe and Kenny were excellent fishers; they even created their own jigs to attract more fish. Stan was perhaps more sensitive than some of the others but he supplied much needed man-power to help the ship along. Eric and Butters could cook up everything they caught and also preserve it, which was absolutely crucial to their survival if they were to be out to sea for many days at a time. They did have to keep tabs on Eric because there were times when Craig saw some missing goods which he was sure the fatass had eaten. Eric was probably the least trustable on board. Token became another one of Craig's closest friends. Like Clyde, he could also deal with Craig's bouts of dickish behavior and offer some different insight. He was very logical and could easily mediate a tense situation.

But no matter how much he distracted himself with the ocean, the depression always crept back to him. It would manifest in his most vulnerable times, so he locked up. He tried to brick his mind into a tiny room so it couldn't be vulnerable anymore. It left him a shred of a human being. Indifferent and cold became his outward appearance, and everyone around him didn't really know how to take it. So they left him alone; alone to wallow even further in his misery. Craig was never really a buddy-buddy guy but this new attitude made his former self seem that way.

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><p>Craig took a deep breath of the cool Atlantic air. He and his crew were docked at Cape Cod at the moment, trying their luck with crate traps, but they hadn't been very successful. The pollution killed off a large percentage of the sea-life along the coasts, so it had been difficult to harvest near land, they had to move further and further off-shore in order to make ends meet.<p>

He heard Clyde walking towards the end of the boat he occupied, his footsteps heavy.

"Craig, we got another empty trap. I don't know how well this area is going to do giving us food." Craig pondered this for a moment before turning around and heading into the main cabin to look at his map pinned on the counter. Clyde followed him looking at where Craig was observing on the map. Then the raven-haired boy placed his finger on an island near the border of Canada in the gulf of Maine.

"Here." He stated coldly. Clyde had to cringe at the sheer bitterness in his voice.

"Why there? It's so far away, and it'll be freezing!"

"Cold water means more oxygenation which means more sea-life. We'll also be less likely to run into rebels here."

The brunette wanted to press his decision further but knew he wouldn't get anything else out of the detached raven. Instead he went to reset the makeshift sails and winch the cluster of cinderblocks they used for an anchor.

Craig had a gut feeling about this place. He knew it would bring them something good, he just didn't know what.

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><p><strong>AN: Well, Tell me what you think? Are you interested? Or are you bored to tears? Where do you think this will go? I promise this will go more into detail but I just wanted to introduce the setting and what not. PLEASE REVIEW AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK OF THIS PRETTY PLEASE! :D <strong>


	2. Debris

**Chapter 2: Debris**

**AN: Please review! Let me know what you think! :)**

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><p>The water sloshed over the front of the ship as the hull rocked up and down sailing over waves. They were just passing the small coast of New Hampshire and were nearing the Gulf of Maine. To the rest of the crew the weather seemed fine; but Craig could sense the incoming low pressure system. He could almost smell the incoming rain and felt the abnormal rocking of the water. He knew by the breeze that it would hit them from the southwest, but by the way the winds picked up he knew they wouldn't out-run it. He had to make a call whether or not to dock or to risk sailing through the storm.<p>

He decided they would fare better riding out the storm in the deeper water, the coast was riddled with jagged rocks, making it unsafe for the boat to remain docked.

"Craig, what do we do?" Bebe asked holding her curly blonde hair back from the wind. The lithe captain threw them a loop of nylon rope.

"Secure anything that could blow away or come loose. Then brace yourselves for a night of hell." The group exchanged looks but abided by Craig's instructions. He had never steered them wrong before, they trusted his instinct and experience. Their leader may be cold and indifferent, but he still looked out for each and every one of them. It wasn't like a parents concern, or general caring; Craig's feeling towards them resembled more of a responsibility or an obligation. The times called for a guardian, which was how Craig approached looking after 9 people.

Craig took his place at the forward bow setting a foot on the rusting metal rail; he rested an arm on his elevated knee to look out into the darkening horizon. The wind blew sprays of briny water over the deck and into his face. It was like he was staring down Poseidon himself as he watched the lightening crack over the sky and the thunder barrel after it with the force of continents colliding.

The sheer intensity of the storm made his soul break through the seemingly thin barrier and rush with the crashing water. It felt like the sea was the only one who could comprehend how tightly coiled Craig truly was; and when storm surged and the energy flowed, the Captain became engulfed in the powerful feelings coursing through him.

The ocean was Craig.

Craig was the ocean.

They were one in the same in these personal and private times.

From the perspective of the rest of the crew he looked manic. No one could even stomach approaching their Captain during these times of obsession. Clyde swore he could see the dark energy rippling the air around him, and stretching outward like thin arms. If there was one person concerned for their Captain it was Clyde. He watched Craig transform into something completely unrecognizable; even his appearance seemed different. He had known him the longest out of the group so he was able to compare the first time they had met to what he was now. Craig never told him anything about his life before, he knew as much as anyone else. He was from Colorado. And that's all anyone could determine about him.

Clyde had a suspicion that there was much more going on that Craig cared to disclose. Not exactly a suspicion since Clyde took note of some of Craig's weird behavior while he slept. One noticeable thing was his teeth grinding. His Captain ground his teeth so loudly sometimes it woke him up from a peaceful sleep; it was the ultimate indicator that he was stressed. His mother had really bad teeth grinding problems during his parents divorce before the disaster, the dentist told her that it was because she was stressed out. Another thing was that he slept very little. Compared to the other people on deck, he would probably only sleep for 4-5 hours a night. He was always the last to go to bed, and the first to wake up, it was inhuman really.

But Clyde couldn't figure out whether or not the stress symptoms were coming from things he had already experienced or if they were the result of being responsible for 9 people's lives. Whatever the cause, he knew Craig kept all of his anxiety bottled up, which is what he suspected could be the cause of his transformation. Clyde had his doubts whether or not the raven-haired man could possibly talk to anyone about it, the brunette literally tried for years without a single scrap of new information. He was helpless to watch his only best friend circle the drain of madness, unable to accept or ask for help. He only wondered how long Craig had before he completely lost touch with his former self.

"Clyde, will you stop fucking day dreaming and help me strap down these crates?" Stan yelled from across the deck. Clyde took one last look at his Captain, before rushing over the uneven deck careful not to slip, to help tie down the fishing crates.

Stan was a pretty rustic guy; there wasn't anything about him that would have suggested his calm and boyish demeanor. He was probably the most well-liked on the crew, he could get along with just about anyone; hell, even Clyde didn't think he was that bad. He had black hair and blue eyes, similar to Craig, but he had much softer features than Craig did. He had traveled to their group with his best friend Kyle, the red-head who was gathering all of the loose articles on deck at the moment. Apparently they had known each other before and stuck it out with each other during the disaster after they became separated from their families. They were extremely close, some might say _too_ close; but after your families have all but disappeared, what can you do?

Clyde tied the last knot before turning to help Kenny and Bebe secure the other fishing supplies by the main cabin door. Hooks and fish line were flying everywhere, so Clyde put his arm over the tops of the rods letting Kenny arrange them properly. Kenny was a blonde from Louisiana who had been in the alligator hunting business. The brunette wasn't sure if he was telling the truth or not, but the blonde put on a convincing act. He was a lighthearted individual who apparently had a thing for sleeping around. Clyde was sure that he and Bebe would sneak around to have a quick fuck once in a while. Bebe was a busty blonde girl from New York who when she first came to their group didn't have any noticeable usefulness. However, she admittedly found her talent with rod fishing, proving that her presence wasn't as inadequate as it seemed. She was pleasant to have around, she and Kenny had a thing for humor, so they were able to lighten a darkened mood. Well, besides Craig that is.

The boat rocked violently sending their balance of kilter as they retreated to under deck. Clyde ushered them all in the door before locking it tightly to prevent it swinging open.

"W-what about Craig?" The nervous bleach blonde boy asked.

"He's in one of his moods. You should know he won't listen to anyone, he'll be fine." Clyde replied to Butters who was easing onto his bunk with his back to the wall. Nobody knew Butters' real name, he just said he preferred Butters because it reminded him of his parents.

"Clyde, is Craig getting worse? He seems more dejected than usual lately." The black haired girl Wendy said. Wendy was super intelligent; she helped solve many of the boats problems along side the smartest boy Kyle. She was sweet, but she had her bitchy side when she got angry enough. She also seemed to have a thing for Stan, but the lug was too thick to even notice her advances on him.

"I don't know, I honestly don't know what to think anymore."

"Well it sounds like that butthole needs a kick in the ass. But at least he's taking responsibility." Said Eric from the back. Eric was very critical, and very quick to judge. He had a superiority complex unlike anything Clyde had ever seen; his self image so distorted he thought everyone adored him. The fat asshole would have challenged Craig for the position of Captain had he not been concerned with the amount of responsibility it required. So he figured he'd call some back-seat shots and let Craig take rap for it. It seemed most logical for such a power-fiend and it required far less effort than a leading position.

"Quiet down there fat ass, we don't need your unnecessary comments." Clyde said harshly, it looked like the fat boy was going to retort but decided against it.

"Why do you think he picked Maine?" The black boy Token asked. Token had come from a rich family, but it didn't help after the disaster when the rebels invaded their household to loot the place. He told them his parents died of illness, leaving him alone. He was a pretty smart guy as well, but his talents lied within speech and mediation, able to talk just about anyone down.

Clyde shrugged.

"Come on guys, you know how Craig works. He gets an idea or a gut feeling and he goes with it."

"Right…it just seems different this time. Like his idea for crate fishing in Cape Cod, it seemed ok at the time, but we really flopped."

"I know, but we just have to trust him. I know we're all hungry, but you don't think he is too? We've never been up to the Gulf of Maine before, who knows? Maybe the pollution hasn't destroyed the water up there." There were exchanged looks and nods. Their supplies were dwindling and the crew was beginning to get restless with hunger.

The boat rocked violently again, sending the people standing tumbling into the bottom bunks.

"God damnit, this storm is really fuckin' us up!" Kenny cried as he rubbed the back of his head. Clyde silently wondered if Craig was alright.

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><p>The morning came with the calm sunlight breaking through the atmosphere, showing the aftermath of the storm. The water wasn't as choppy and the air had freshness to it that they hadn't experienced for quite a while; it was almost always stale with pollution. Clyde walked towards the front bow and found Craig where he left him, glued to the same spot.<p>

"Where are we now?" Clyde asked the Captain.

"In Maine waters." Clyde had to read in between the lines. What he really meant was that we're almost there.

"Any problems last night?"

Craig remained silent, which the brunette took as a no.

"Craig, I realize that you have baggage, but it's really weighing you down, man. I'm worried about you."

"How poetic." The bitter sarcasm dripped off every word like poison. Clyde tried not to take offense, but because of the coldness in his words, he knew this wasn't Craig's normal banter. It made his heart fall, but he didn't know how to alleviate it, it just plain hurt when Craig was this way.

As the Captain listened to the brunette's retreating footsteps he turned his focus back the water ahead. He disregarded Clyde's comment, he didn't have baggage. What he had were a string of painful memories that poked fun at his weaknesses. He couldn't be weak, he had to be strong, there were people depending on him. If he were to slip up just once, they could starve, or worse. He couldn't afford to feel the pain that tried to sneak in, his built his walls so thick that only the water could come. The water could seep in, rush around a bit, exercise the raging feelings, and then slip out without anyone else noticing. It was his silent way of coping, but the barrier still enclosed his mind protecting him from the pain that wanted to cripple him.

There was something in the distance, debris? Probably. The storm most likely flushed out a lot of debris from the coast. But as they neared it, Craig could see something yellow…like hair. His eyes narrowed in thought, before casually walking towards the other people on deck.

"It looks like there's a body in the water, see if they're still alive."

This wasn't the first time they had encountered bodies floating away in the water, but Craig always made them check to make sure if they were alive, then they would bring them back to shore. There was an attitude that most had developed in these hard times that called for helping survivors to protect the race. Craig only felt it necessary to do so on these terms. The Captain returned to his place at the front bow and watched as the supposed body grew nearer revealing that it was, in fact a body.

It was a frail looking boy probably in his late teens, early twenties, just like the rest of them. His blonde hair bleached from the sun, and skin tanned evenly over his protruding bones; he was clinging to what looked like a piece of driftwood. He looked like a wreck, all puns aside; there was a disheveled quality to his appearance that told his story vicariously through his body. Craig suddenly held on to the thought that it wasn't a corpse this time.

There was a life ring thrown into the water attached to a rope that hit the boy square in the back of his head. The boy didn't move at first, but Craig saw his eyes flutter rapidly and then his body jerked around flailing in the water like a drowning animal.

"NGH! PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!" he screamed, water entering his mouth. Then there was more gurgling than screaming which was when Clyde pitched in.

"We're not going to kill you, we were trying to help you!" The blonde boy went wide eyed and stopped flailing for a moment before examining the boat and the people staring down at him on deck. There was deep confliction written on his face and his eyes darted between everyone before making their way to Craig's. It looked like he had stopped breathing and his body went rigid, as he stared into the Captain's intimidating expression. It was like the blonde boy was too terrified to break his gaze, afraid that Craig's expression would attack him if he were to look away.

"Hey! Grab the life raft and we'll pull you up!" The blonde robotically latched his arm around and with the help of some other crew member they hoisted him up and over the bow. Craig leaned against the wheel house and crossed his arms watching everyone fuss around the newcomer.

He noticed that when people touched him he flinched violently and scooted away from the invasive hands. Clyde had to step in and push the people back.

"Give him some air people; he obviously doesn't want to be touched." The group stepped back sheepishly and allowed the twitching blonde to take a breath of relief. He clutched his chest and stared up nervously at everyone around him. He was only wearing a pair of ratty overly large cut-off jeans that went a little below his knees; it exposed how emaciated he was. The newcomer was worse off than Craig initially had thought.

"Give him a ration." He said coldly. Everyone looked up at him surprised that he had had spoken up.

"But Craig we—" Token began, but was cut short by a glare so intense that basically told him there was no negotiation. Craig knew there wasn't much to spare, but obviously this boy needed nourishment of some kind or he would definitely die in a matter of days. Butters silently fetched a small strip of cod they had dried and preserved, and fresh water they had collected for the boy. When handed the ration, the boy looked around frantically before stuffing the entire thing in his mouth and washing it down with the fresh water. Clyde noticed his teeth were chattering.

"Are you cold?" he asked softly kneeling down in front of him. To which the blonde nodded hugging his knees together. The air here was much cooler and the water probably wasn't warm at all with the incoming seasons.

"What's your name sweetie?" Bebe asked putting a wool blanket over his shoulders. The blonde stiffened and pulled at the edges of the blanket. His eyes scanned the deck like he was searching for the answer there.

"Um…Y-you can—ngh—call me Tweek."

"HA! Seems pretty fitting eh Stan? This guy is twitching all over the place!" Eric bellowed; Stan gave him a stern look. Tweek huddled further in his blanket averting his eyes.

"Don't worry about that asshole, he's always like that, besides I think it's cute." Bebe said giving him a small smile.

"Oh come on Bebe, it's only because you have a thing for other blonde's you slut." Her eyes flared with anger at Eric's comment. Kenny gave him a swift punch in the arm.

"Not cool man! She ain't a slut!"

"Says the guy she's fucking," he spat out nursing his arm before Kenny gave him another punch, this time much harder.

"Come on guys, cut the shit. You're making Tweek uncomfortable." Kyle said glowering at Eric. Tweek was pulling at his hair and making nervous groans while his eyes flickered from side to side, it looked like he was having a panic attack.

"Are you alright dude?" Stan asked moving closer. Tweek made a loud noise and jumped as everyone turned to look at him.

"Too many people looking at me—ngh!—I can't handle this, too much pressure! Gah—I don't like fighting!" He screwed his eyes shut and he started rocking.

"Dude. This guy is a fucking mental case." Eric said bewildered.

"You realize people deal with things differently? We don't know who he really is or what he's been through, so shut your fat fucking mouth!" Wendy said agitated. Eric complied; Wendy was the only one that could put him in his place.

Normally, the action taken next would be to locate where to leave him off-shore; to send him on his way. But Clyde had a different idea. He approached Craig as everyone dispersed trying to leave Tweek alone to compose himself. Craig looked at him apathetically and raised an eyebrow in question.

"So I was thinking, maybe we could let Tweek stay?" Craig's eyes narrowed and then he looked at Tweek who was still huddled under the blanket with his eyes closed. "I know our supplies are limited and our space is cramped. But look at him, he's a mess, it would irresponsible on our part to just push him out into the world like that, don't you think?" Clyde said thoughtfully. Clyde was really a nice guy, he just, was bit a retarded sometimes, but right now he sounded more intelligent than Craig gave him credit for. The Captain gave him a blank stare before making his way over the twitchy blonde.

Tweek saw the shadow approaching and snapped his head up to look at Craig and Clyde.

"You can stay." The raven-haired man stated. Tweek's mouth hung open in shock.

"That's awesome Craig! I can give him my bunk for now until—"

"No. He will sleep in the wheel house." Clyde gave him an incredulous look.

"With you? Why?" Craig looked into Tweek's wide minty green eyes before he said,

"I don't trust him." This made Tweek jerk violently and make a noise of fright.

"You're going to watch me sleep?—NGH—that's not right man! How do I know you won't try to slit my throat while I'm sleeping or throw me overboard to drown? How do I know you're not going to give me up to the rebels? How do I know _you_ aren't rebels? OH SWEET _JESUS!_" Tweek shook his head and pointed a finger accusingly while sinking lower and lower onto the deck. Craig could only blink at his outburst.

"You either sleep in the wheelhouse, or you go ashore, _alone._" Craig said darkly.

"_Nghhhhhh_" Tweek whined pulling at his face. He seemed to be arguing with himself about what to do. "Ok! Ok!" he groaned dejectedly. Satisfied, Craig returned to his normal post at the front of the boat. Clyde sat down next to Tweek on the deck who looked like he was still conflicted about his decision.

"Hey, it'll be alright. Craig is mean, but he won't kill you, promise. By the way Craig is our leader, if you hadn't noticed and I'm Clyde. So what were you doing in the water?"

The blonde fidgeted with the edge of the blanket.

"I was a slave for the rebels, and I ...I finally escaped."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Are you still interested? Please tell me what you think of this fic! I LOVE REVIEWS! Every review makes me feel all warm and fuzzy! <strong>


	3. Newcomer

**Chapter 3: Newcomer**

* * *

><p>Tweek was sitting in the main cabin talking to the other crew members, he had warmed up significantly since earlier that day, he was introduced to everyone, and he was welcomed in to socialize. He fit in nicely, like he was always part of the crew. Most everyone didn't mind his tics or nervous behaviors, except for maybe Eric, but he didn't like anyone.<p>

Clyde sat outside, listening to everyone laughing and talking to Tweek; he needed some air, he had had a pretty exhausting day. He watched Craig sitting in the wheelhouse, gazing over the dark water, only illuminated by the moon.

He was surprised that Craig let Tweek stay, but he didn't want to question him and make him change his mind. He wondered what was on Craig's mind; he was always so quiet, much quieter than he used to be. The brunette used to be able to joke around with the Captain, or at least have a brief conversation. But now, it was more like pulling teeth, or perhaps fingers and toes. He missed his best friend; he missed everything they used to do together. Now they couldn't be farther apart unless one jumped overboard.

But he had a good feeling about Tweek, not like any other person they had encountered over the years. Maybe he just felt sorry for the guy, but he did like Tweek. Clyde remembered their conversation earlier that day.

* * *

><p>"I was a slave for the rebels, and I ...I finally escaped." Tweek said slowly while fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. Clyde looked over at him wide eyed.<p>

"Wow… Well I can honestly say I wasn't expecting that, how did that happen?" Tweek grimaced and made a few noises of discomfort but he continued.

"When our town got destroyed by—ngh—flooding, my parents took me away somewhere I've never been. We lived with a couple of our neighbors there and established another home. It was absolutely terrible! I didn't—ngh—have any of my medication or more importantly, _coffee_. Coffee calms me down, and I thought I was going to go INSANE. Well, um… I kinda did, but I got used to living without it, except my parents were tired of my behavior off meds. I tried so hard to keep my tics and twitches under control but I couldn't help it! I knew my parents were really exhausted living with me." A sad expression rolled over his face. "Ngh—then rebels traveled over our camp and they were going to shoot us. But my dad convinced them to—" He had a particularly violent convulsion. "—take me alive for work in return for their safe escape. But once they took me—NGH—they s-s-shot everyone anyway.

"I-I don't know why—ngh—they didn't shoot me either. I was a psychotic teenager, but they decided to keep me. They made me do most of the manual labor. I—ngh—had to carry extremely heavy packs and pull carts and do any of the bitch work. I think they thought they didn't need to feed me, I almost never—ngh—got a full meal. I-I had to steal scraps, b-b-but if they had caught me; Sweet jesus, they would have filleted me with a rusty knife!" After he flailed a little his eyes grew wide and focused on the deck.

"They forced me to do—NGH—deplorable things. Oh _God,_ I can still see her face, I didn'—" Tweek started to mouth off words so quickly they sounded like a blur to Clyde who was listening intently. The brunette cautiously brought a hand to the blonde's shoulder to which he shrieked and backed away in response. Tweek's eyes were gaping at him, tears welling up in the corners. "I-I-I'm sorry… I have issue's with touching…"

"No, that was my bad, I should have known from earlier. But maybe you've have enough talking for one day. Go ahead and look around, this will be your new home for now."

* * *

><p>Clyde opened his eyes; everyone had seen death in one way or another, and he'd even be willing to guess that others had killed before. From what Tweek was telling him, it seemed as though he'd been put through some rough shit.<p>

Clyde decided to get up and re-join the others.

The next morning the air was cool and the fog was billowing across the water. Craig had slept on deck that evening, since Tweek was very adamant about him being a serial killer that wouldn't hesitate to snap his neck. But the blonde had a difficult time falling asleep, but finally did warily in the early hours of morning. Craig didn't get much sleep that night, maybe an hour or two but so he did what Tweek was afraid of. He watched him sleep, not in the creepy sense mind you, although one could argue watching anyone sleep is creepy, but he just observed how he slept. He noted that the twitchy boy was hard to wake up once asleep, and was very still and peaceful, unlike his conscious demeanor. He had a ragged sheet he was wrapped in but when he rolled over, it fell off his back and he could see each individual vertebrae jutting out from under his skin. Everyone on the ship had dropped weight from having to ration their food; however Tweek was far more skeletal than anyone else. He had obviously been surviving on literal scraps.

Craig stood stoically with his arms crossed recognizing the pine on the scattered islands. They were where they needed to be alright, but now the needed to find a good island to dock at. There were a lot of rocky outcrops he needed to be wary of, what better way to scope out an area than by inspecting yourself? Craig lowered a rope into the water attached to the bow. He undressed to his underwear, even taking off his precious blue chullo and took a last look into the wheelhouse at the sleeping blonde, things should be just fine, he wouldn't be gone long. And with that, he dove into the frigid waters hardly making a noise as he was engulfed by the sea.

Craig actually enjoyed doing this from time to time, one of the very scarce things he enjoyed. The water was refreshing, cleansing, and this time it was cold enough to numb away just about anything. When he resurfaced, he swam over to the shore of a particularly appealing island; it seemed small yet the trees were very dense, ideal for concealing your location and a great way to block a vessel from view.

Near shore it looked pretty rocky but out further there was a significant drop off that would allow them to anchor there and swim to shore. He treaded water for a moment, looking over the island for any inhabitants; it looked desolate, which was perfect.

Because he wanted to avoid getting too frigid he decided swimming back to his boat would be favorable. When he reached the hull he grabbed a hold of the rope dangling in the water and skillfully pulled himself up and over the deck. The water droplets rolling off his body plopped over the deck louder than he would have liked. He went to the front bow where his discarded clothes lay and removed his sopping underwear to hang-dry. As he hung them up he felt uneasy and looked behind him quickly enough to see a blur of blonde hair diving under the window in the wheel house. _Was that little shit watching me?_ Craig thought a bit annoyed, but he brushed it aside and continued to dress into his dry clothes.

Craig opened the door to the wheelhouse abruptly which caused Tweek to screech.

"I'M SORRY, PLEASEDON'TKILLMEPLEASEDON'TKILLME—NGH—I'M SORRY!" He held his hands up around his head in a submissive manner with his eyes clenched shut. When he opened his eyes he stared into Craig's hard glare that was piercing his soul. But he remained silent, allowing Tweek to calm down, well as much as Tweek _could_ calm down with a death glare staring him in the eye. The Captain walked in and sat at the counter where to map lay pinned to it.

Tweek cautiously wiped some sweat off his brow, watching the Captain intently as he studied the map. _Did he see me looking? I think he did, but oh sweet jesus! He's planning something I know it! He'll strike me down when I least expect it! I didn't mean to see him naked I was just watching him swim, oh god, if I had known I'd have shut my eyes or something to avoid such and EVIL glare. I'm so confused. I don't know how to take his silence, I don't know if he's pissed at me or if he's ignoring me, or I DON'T FUCKING KNOW GAH! Maybe I should talk? Defuse the tension? Should I?_ Tweek rambled as he pulled down at his face stretching it with his indecision. Finally his vocal chords choked something out.

"So…Uh... You like swimming?" he said trying to suppress his tics.

The Captain didn't even move, so Tweek decided to continue.

"Water kinda—ngh—scares me because the undertow could grab you and drag you out and drown you, but if I have something to hang on to…" Still no reaction, "…I can just float and kick my feet and stuff…"

Zilch.

"So…Clyde told me—ngh—you're from Colorado?" Tweek could have sworn he saw Craig's head dip downward slightly in a nodding gesture so he decidedly continued. "I'm from a m-m-mountain town too…there was always snow on the ground, m-my dad—ngh—owned a coffee shop, and we'd sit around a fireplace sipping on _sweet_ and _delicious_ dark roast…" As Tweek got carried away in his fantasy of coffee, Craig had stopped observing the map and instead was staring into space, listening to the blonde. Why the fuck was he still talking to him? Usually people gave up at this point, but this annoying, blonde, paranoid was babbling like Clyde for Christ's-sake. "…light roast is ok for those mornings where you just need a cup, but my favorite is—ngh—medium-dark roast. It's like Jesus came down and ground it himself! O-oh… I must have gotten off track…I-it's just, I really miss coffee, i-it's like the only thing that I could call comfort; it reminds me of my—ngh—parents…" A sad expression washed over his once bright features, the memories still too fresh for less-painful recollection.

Craig instinctively picked up on his sudden change in mood and swiveled around in his chair to face him. When Tweek realized he was being stared at and he jumped while making a noise. Craig's eyes were boring holes into his soul. There was something dark about him that made his expression seem as though they would swallow him whole. He suddenly regretted talking so much.

"NGH—I'm sorry! It's j-just you weren't saying anything, and I thought you didn't mind, OH SWEET BABY JESUS I'M SORRY!" Craig merely gawked at the flailing blonde; quite unsure of what to make of this situation.

"Stop." Craig said, voice hard and cold as steel. The blonde froze and looked up at him through his thick curtain of cow-licked hair. Tweek didn't expect him to talk, Clyde _had_ told him that whenever Craig spoke it was only out of necessity. "Don't be sorry." This made Tweek's eyes soften for a moment, did he just say…?

"W-what?" the blonde squeaked out. The Captains eyes narrowed, he didn't like repeating himself.

"I said, don't be sorry." Well this confirmed Tweek's suspicions.

"Um…O-ok…" Craig seemed satisfied with this and returned to the map. Tweek twiddled his finger before looking back up at the Captain. "Um…So, w-why do you wear that hat?" he asked hesitantly, making Craig's focus drift back to Tweek.

"It's like your coffee." This made Tweek really stare at Craig, surely this was a mistake. The Craig that was described to him would never have made such meaningless conversation, so why was he even pursuing this?

"Did your parents get it for you?" he asked intrigued, but then he found that his luck had run dry when the Captain didn't respond. But if he had compared it to Tweek's feelings about coffee, then that must mean it reminds him of his family, or something similar. "I-it suits you, the blue color." Tweek mentally punched himself in the face_._ But when Craig made no effort to respond Tweek continued to talk, against his better judgment. "Thanks for…Uh…You know, letting me s-stay—ngh—I honestly d-don't know where I would have gone if I had even survived drifting out the sea. I k-know you don't—ngh—trust me yet, but I give you my word I'll work hard to make my stay useful."

Again, Craig was dragged from his current task only to be interested once more with what was coming from the blonde's mouth. But this time he didn't say anything back, he tried to return to his task. For some reason when Tweek spoke to him, his mouth felt like spewing word vomit, and by word vomit he meant a few choice words that wouldn't have normally been spoken. He didn't like it. But he didn't want to use any more precious words to tell him to shut the fuck up. Thankfully he didn't need to whip out his trusty middle finger, because Tweek decided to try and catch a few more hours of sleep nestling into the mattress. God only knows how he could do this with Craig still in the wheelhouse, considering the night before he had been a drama queen about it.

The Captain rubbed a tired finger into his temple, he wished he could try to do the same, but his body physically wouldn't let him. Instead he finished up looking over the map and went out on deck to cast the anchor so they wouldn't drift too close to the island.

Craig guessed it was about mid-morning by the position of the sun, and it was about the time that most of the crew woke up. Clyde came out first as usual, rubbing his squinting eyes.

"Uwaaahhhhh…Mornin' Craig. I hope you didn't scare off our new member in the middle of the night." Craig said nothing but motioned his head towards the wheelhouse. "Still here is he? Well that's good news. So what's the plan for today, I see you've anchored us near an island."

"Rod fishing, off shore, and on deck." With that Clyde looked over into the water. It seemed cleaner than where they had fished before and he could tell it was much colder by the way the winds felt. He knew from experience that the fish would seek shelter under their anchored vessel which was why Craig wanted people on deck fishing as well as offshore. They had more than enough rods, they had collected many over the years along with fishing line, the would hang lines into the water all along the deck baited with what few bits and pieces of fish guts they had left. Meanwhile the others would take every rod and fish using lures to try and catch fish, it was the most effective method they'd tried, and it was no doubt they'd be using it today.

Everyone started pouring out of the main cabin and after Clyde debriefed them, they got to work. They split up 5 on deck, 6 on shore. Kenny took Bebe, Wendy, Kyle, Clyde and Tweek with him to shore; while Eric, Butters, Stan, Token and Craig stayed on deck.

Kenny dove into the water first and surfaced "WHOOO! That water is pretty chilly! Alright, throw me the gear!" Kyle threw hum a bundle of rods and tackle box attached to a life ring; just in case Kenny dropped the bundle they wouldn't be losing all of their gear. When Kenny started making his way over to the island, Kyle dove in next and making the same remark about how cold the water was. Wendy and Bebe looked at each other sheepishly.

"Aw man, hold my hand Wendy!" Bebe said holding out her palm, fingers outstretched. Wendy readily attached to her hand and they both jumped in together holding their noses. When they resurfaced they squealed and laughed both swimming behind Kyle and Kenny. Clyde turned to Tweek who was freaking out a little over jumping in the water.

"But what if I jump in and hit my head the wrong way and then I drown because I'm unconscious!"

Clyde took a deep breathe.

"Tweek, you aren't going to drown. Wanna hold my hand buddy?" He said wiggling his fingers.

Tweek gave him an incredulous look.

"No way man! I'm not—ngh—a chick!"

"Then stop acting like one and jump in! Even the so-called chicks on this boat jumped in faster than you!"

"ACK! Oh god! Too much pressure!" Tweek started spazzing and pulling at his hair.

"All this pussy needs is a little PUSH" Eric said shoving into Tweek making him topple over the bow and into frigid waters. Clyde turned to him angrily.

"What the fuck man?" Before he could say more he heard Tweek screaming and flailing so he dived in after him.

"AUGH! I'M GOING TO DIEEEEE!" Tweek screeched at the top of his lungs.

"STOP! Just hold onto my shoulders and I'll—URGH—Help you swim to shore!" He choked out between avoiding Tweek's waving limbs. Tweek grabbed his shoulders firmly and he started to calm down as Clyde propelled them towards the island.

When Tweek could feel his feet touch gravel he surged forward and clung to the beach taking deep breaths of terror as he stared into the sky.

"I-I-I'm so sorry Clyde…NGH—I had a panic attack." As the brunette caught his breath too he looked over at Tweek.

"Nahh, it's alright. Eric's an asshole, I mean you were stalling but I'm sure we could have gotten you in."

Kenny and the girls started setting up their rods and soon after Clyde and Tweek joined in. Clyde had to teach Tweek how to use a fishing rod since he'd never used one in his life. The blonde boy struggled trying to cast the line.

"Now when you cast, right before the lure goes forward release the button and it will go out into the water." Clyde explained patiently explained. But Tweek began to get frustrated; he was to jerky to cast the weighted line properly. He sat down and glanced over at the bundle of gear when a particularly long rod caught his attention.

"What's that?" he asked Clyde observing the strange looking rod.

"Oh that? That's a fly fishing rod, the only one that knows how to use it is Kenny," Tweek touched the light bamboo looking material.

"C-can I try this one?" he stuttered out and Clyde gave him a look.

"Really? I don't know how well you'll do if you can't even to a regular fishing rod, but I'm sure Kenny wouldn't mind showing you." He called Kenny over and he took Kenny's rod in his place.

"So you wanna learn to fly fish eh? I'm tellin' you, it's an art form, not many people have the patience to learn the proper casting technique." But Tweek was adamant about trying it. Kenny started by showing him the different parts and how the line was different. Explaining how the weight of line is how you cast rather than the weight of a lure or bait. Tweek listened, extremely focused; he wasn't twitching or jerking around, it was scary how still he was while focusing. After Kenny demonstrated the wild technique of casting he handed the rod over to Tweek for further instruction. "Alright, now try the flickin' motion I showed you." As Tweek pulled the rod backward he flicked the rod forward and snapped the tip up causing the line to jump. "Good! Now keep doing that, you're a real natural!" The more Tweek swung the line the deeper it went out.

"Am I—ngh—doing it right?"

"Hell yeah! Tweek my boy, are you sure you've never done this before?" Tweek felt a smile perk his cheeks up he'd never felt this good about something he'd accomplished. As he repeated casting over and over he finally felt comfortable doing it without Kenny's help.

"W-where did you learn to fly fish?" the twitchy blonde asked. Kenny sat back and jigged his lure as he spoke.

"My dad taught me in the Mississippi river. We used to go wadin' in the water and fish all afternoon 'til it was time for supper. It was my favorite thing about my dad, sometimes he brought both me and my brother, but sometimes it was just us, and I loved that time together. I think it was the only thing we ever bonded over…" he smiled sadly and cast his lure again. "My parents used to drink a lot, they always used to fight, and my father threatened to leave us so many times. They were all empty threats, but he'd scream them at her hopin' that the louder he shouted, the more real they would become. I felt bad for my little sister Karen, she used to take it so hard, she'd come runnin' into my room in the middle of the night cryin' 'cause she could hear them fightin' again." Tweek had stopped casting and listened to Kenny talk about his former life, wondering why he was telling all this to a stranger. "Well, at least I can find peace in that she'll never have to hear them fightin' again." Tweek looked away and into the sand, he watched his toes dig themselves in the sand trying to conceal them.

"I-I—ngh—I'm sorry…" He muttered sorrowfully. But Kenny shook his head.

"Don't be; we all lose someone or something one way or the other, it's just accepting that it's a part of life and that sometimes, cruel things happen. You can't go on livin' in sadness or regret, you gotta find the optimism in the cards you're dealt or else you'll never feel true happiness again." Tweek nodded and started casting again_._ The dark blonde let out a bellow of laughter. "You'll find out that I'm a pretty open book!"

Tweek nervously laughed with him when he felt his rod bend.

"Holy shit! I think I have one! What do I do?" Tweek cried holding the rod like he'd never seen it before.

"Hook it! Snap the rod back!" Tweek did as he was instructed and felt the line tighten. "Now reel it in!" The commotion caught everyone else's attention and the put down their rods to come watch Tweek. The rod looked like it was bending past its limit. "Ease up a little, keep the tension but let it swim away a little, let 'im get tired out!" Tweek followed his direction and eventually he reeled in a good 4lbs striped bass. Everyone on shore whooped and hollered, congratulating Tweek on his first catch.

"Nice one, Tweek! Keep this up and we'll be able to have a really awesome dinner!" Bebe said taking the fish off the hook for him and putting on special line designed to hold fish in the water so they don't go bad while you're still fishing. Tweek tolerated all of the praise, trying his hardest not to freak out from the proximity of the other people. But he could honestly say he was proud of himself.

From the deck of the boat, the Captain watched the excitement from afar, silently impressed by the newcomer. He was starting to believe that maybe this boy came to them for a reason.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: What are you thinking? I know not too much happened in this chapter, but you should be able to recognize the progress that is happening is actually very important to the plot. Keep that in mind ;) PLEASE REVIEW! Let me know what you think! Let me know if you thin this needs work!<strong>


	4. Insomnia

**Chapter 4: Insomnia**

The moon was high in the sky illuminating the water in a brilliant display of shimmering reflections. The water was calm, and the wind blew carelessly through the mast allowing Craig the luxury of a peaceful moment to himself. Not that he didn't get that often, but the air was crisp and chilly; giving him brief flashbacks of his hometown in Colorado. How the snow gently fell in his face staring into the sky, there was nothing like that feeling of winter. The snow around here wasn't like the snow in Colorado, here it was a slushy heavy mess, in his hometown it was fluffy and dryer, which is definitely what he preferred. The way the wind blew the dry air from shore made him remember fonder times. He watched the waters delicate fluttering against the rocks surrounding the island they had fished earlier that day.

He was surprised at how quickly Tweek had taken to fly fishing; he knew from experience that it wasn't an easy activity to learn. But nonetheless he managed to wrangle in more fish than anyone else and they were able to have a proper dinner that evening.

There was some creaking from the wheelhouse as Tweek tossed and turned helplessly. Craig figured after such a long day the guy would be out cold, but all he could hear for the past hour or so was the sound the blonde groaning and flipping over between his back and sides. Craig listened carefully hearing the blonde's noises of frustration before settling into another position. The black haired boy leaned his head on the hard wooden exterior of the wheelhouse and felt his own body beginning to succumb to exhaustion.

But it was different for Craig, or at least he thought.

He couldn't close his eyes idly while trying to fall asleep, his mind would wander into dangerous territory if he allowed himself to dwell. He wouldn't admit it to anyone else, but he was terrified of what he would see if he were to close his eyes and stare into the impending darkness. He'd already discovered what may be lurking in the darkest parts of his brain, and he couldn't bear to see it again. So he waited until his body couldn't function any longer and he slipped into a blissfully dreamless sleep.

But that wasn't the case at the moment.

He sat uncomfortably on the deck waiting for the blonde to stop tossing around on the futon so he could sneak in and grab his nighttime sleep remedy. But that fucking twitchy boy wouldn't stop moving and sleep.

The irritation grinded his temper, but it was soon alleviated when he didn't hear Tweek rolling around anymore. He took a silent breath of relief and nimbly got to his feet without making a sound. He didn't want to risk scaring the paranoid blonde. He crept slowly towards the door and managed to open it without letting the metal handle squeak. He took a step in a glanced down at the futon occupied by Tweek, there was a slight quiver to his frame, or so he thought; his eyesight was good but with the moon not shining through the window at the right angle, he couldn't determine is he was correct. He noticed that Tweek's bony fingers were clenched tightly around the blanket holding it around his body almost as if he would freeze to death had he let go.

Craig proceeded to step by the blonde and stretched his body reaching for an unidentifiable object.

"GAH! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU DON'TKILLMEPLEASE!"

Motherfucker.

Craig took a cautious step back and raised his hands in a defensive gesture.

"It's me." he said over Tweek's screeching and scrambling to the corner. It took a moment but the moon was hitting Craig's face perfectly and the blonde was able to identify him.

"C-Craig?" he muttered quietly, inwardly embarrassed by his outburst. "W-w-w-what were you doing?" Tweek brought the think blanket up to cover his nose and mouth, only allowing his eyes exposure to Craig's cold indifferent stare. But the black haired man was silent, as he lowered his hands and proceeded to walk towards Tweek who flinched a bit as he took the seat next to him on the bench.

"I was trying to get this," he said softly reaching for the intended object. As he held it up in the bright moon light Tweek recognized it as a book.

"The...Adven..tures...of...Huckleberry Finn?" Tweek said squinting to read, he didn't have the greatest night vision. To which Craig opened it up to his bookmarked place and dragged his fingertips across the worn pages.

"Yes." Why was he having this conversation? All he wanted was the damn book.

There was a pause.

"You...You read in the dark?" the blonde asked nervously. Who the fuck reads at night without a candle or some shit? Craig dipped his head in a nodding gesture. "How d-do you-ngh-manage that?"

Craig internally punched himself, how in the hell did he get into this conversation? He should just walk away and leave it at that, but he doesn't. Instead, he finds himself answering the stupid question.

"I only read when the moon is bright enough. I can't read in the dark you moron." Craig felt himself get lighter, as if insulting him made him feel better about having meaningless small-talk. But unfortunately it didn't faze Tweek from talking even _more. _

"Why are you-ngh-reading Huckleberry Finn? I've never read it b-before."

And that's when Craig knew he wasn't getting out of there.

"I found it." the black haired man responded. But he knew he wouldn't get off that easy. "It's about this kid...from the south...He, uh faked his death and ran away from his alcoholic dad...And...he travels with a slave named Jim... and, I haven't finished the rest." Craig's mouth felt strange as he attempted to convey the plot, he can't recall the last time he had a conversation like this. But he could see Tweek's wide and attentive eyes glistening from the moonlight, very much like a child listening at story time in preschool. It made him slightly uncomfortable, so he kept his eyes straight ahead, only glancing down at the weathered book pages in front of him.

"So..." Tweek began hesitantly, "I-I...uh, don't sleep very well..." _no__shit... _Craig thought. "and I was k-kind of wondering if-ngh-maybe you'd talk w-with m-me?"

Craig didn't believe what he just heard so as he turned to look at the blonde apparently the expression on his face reflected something along the lines of "are you fucking kidding me?" due to Tweek's aversion by scrambling away.

"I MEAN. I JUST. I-I-It helps-ngh-me get tired!" He gasped while grabbing for something to block himself from Craig's view. Craig didn't let his apparently frightening expression fall but instead leaned back to rest his back on the wall.

After that butchered onslaught of words that spewed out of him, the idiot wants _more_? What exactly would they talk about?

"Then talk." Craig stated with a hint of frustration. Tweek relaxed a bit and slid down the wall seating himself on the bench as well. It had a ratty cover pillow that cushioned his decent and he stared at the Captain until his expression returned to his normal blank apathetic gaze.

"So...uh-ngh-what's your favorite color?"

...This is talking? What in the bloody hell did he get himself into. Then after a thoughtful moment Craig closed his eyes briefly.

"Blue." which made Tweek scoot closer.

"M-mine is olive-green mixed with coffee-brown." This made Craig look back up at the blonde.

"That's very specific." he replied with a hint of interest lacing his words. Tweek almost fell off the bench with enthusiasm. He raised his hands in the air incredulously.

"Well I can't just like _all_ shades of green, I only like _one_. And I think it-ngh-goes nicely with coffee-brown."

This guy was even picky about his colors, wonderful. Tweek settled back into his corner folding his legs up to his chest while playing with a loose seam on his cut-off jeans.

"Before everything went to shit, I-ngh-used to paint and stuff. M-my parents were very supportive o-of my hobbies and even bought me expensive paints. B-but I only ever used a couple colors. I'd paint with mostly my favorite colors, but I'd-ngh-spend so much time trying to get the p-perfect shade of olive-green or brown, or w-whatever. I used to paint how my thoughts looked when I closed my eyes since I couldn't ever get a hold of one thought. One time I accidentally ripped a canvas I was painting so angrily."

Craig noticed the more he spoke the less he twitched and tic'd, it was strange how focused he became when speaking about a topic.

"I wish I had them now, now a days I can't even gather a coherent thought let alone socialize properly." Craig raised a brow. He was sure socializing with Craig just fine. "Sometimes my head gets so fucking clogged that I just want to-" Tweek noticed Craig's staring. "T-t-t-to-ngh-smash my skull open and l-let it all out-ngh!" Tweek accidentally tore open the seam he was playing with and immediately retracted his hand to bury it in his hair which he began pulling at furiously. Craig could hear him cursing under his breath and other obscenities about how stupid he was.

"Shut up, you aren't stupid." Craig said gruffly while relaxing backwards on the bench. Tweek raised his wild eyes to look at the reclining Captain. But Craig wasn't finished, "I never had anything like that. All I had was a guinea pig."

Tweek froze, was he really disclosing new information to him? Tweek didn't recall anything about a guinea pig from Clyde.

"Y-you had a guinea pig? W-what was its name?"

"Stripe the third." Craig replied lazily, coming somewhat out of his hard exterior. Tweek was curious at how much more he could get out of the Captain.

"Did you have any other animals?" To which Craig said nothing but Tweek saw him shake his head in the diminishing light. "Did you h-have any-ngh-brothers or sisters?"

The very mention of a sibling made Craig's heart twist and crush violently within his chest. But he stayed quiet.

"I didn't have any siblings; I was an-ngh-only child. Which i-is probably why I was so...spoiled." Tweek thoughtfully scooted even closer to Craig feeling that there was more tension in the air. "Uh...are y-you ok?" he said craning his neck to look over Craig's knees. There was a painfully long silence and Tweek took the hint that this wasn't a discussable topic. "S-sorry..." he whispered.

"Why can't you sleep?" Craig asked unexpectedly. Tweek took a moment to process the question before mowing out the best answer he could.

"When I try to s-sleep, my thoughts-ngh-they go crazy! S-sometimes I-I don't sleep at all...I used to be on heavy sleep meds b-because my insomnia was so terrible. But I-I stopped taking them after my town got raided for supplies. The Military took over the pharmacies and stopped all dispensing of non-essential medication." Craig noticed Tweek began to ramble, but instead of stopping him and telling him to shut the fuck up, he listened.

There was something eerily sad about the way he was talking that intrigued the Captain; something that reminded him of his own experience dealing with the beginning of the war. It was for this reason that he let Tweek continue.

"I was on five or six medications at once—ngh—it was crazy when I couldn't have them anymore. It felt like I was slowly losing control of my body and mind, l-like a fucking tornado was sweeping up my thoughts and j-jumbling them all the fuck up." He started scratching his exposed arm. "M-my parents tried so hard to keep me under control but it was so hard to function. NGH—I still have t-trouble keeping myself under control. My hobbies were the only medication I had after that. I really l-loved painting, but I'd also make garbage sculptures with the litter and stuff. M-my mom was so proud of t-them that she even mounted them in our front yard! I miss my mom…She w-was the—ngh—greatest mom ever. She baked and c-cleaned like it was her job, she always made the best g-ginger snap cookies with t-he most delicious cup of spiced c-coffee to dip it in." Tweek buried his head into his knees before talking again. If Craig didn't know any better he'd thought the boy was crying.

"E-even after the government started giving us rations, she still tried to bake us s-something sweet and tasty even with the little sugar we were given. She tried so hard to k-keep—ngh—our family normal, even if the world around us was crumbling…I still remember the night our house caught on f-fire. T-the rebels were throwing Molotov cocktails into a few houses to make everyone run so they could raid our supplies. I-I-I was so scared, but I remember my mom holding me close as she—ngh—and my dad gathered what they could while escaped the burning house." The scratching became more intense. By this time Craig was listening so intently he could have sworn he could hear Tweek's heartbeat "Everything…E-everything I ever made burned down in the f-fire. I sifted through the rubble but found everything—ngh—scorched. I can't even recall what happened after I-I found everything like that. Apparently I had such a severe panic attack that my mom thought I had heart failure. I guess I needed medical attention, but the government soldiers never came b-back to our town. We k-knew that we were alone when the rations stopped dropping from the government planes. I-it was like w-we were cut off from the world.

"T-that's when my—ngh—parents decided we should move in with our neighbors and r-relocate to a nearby area. Food was scarce, and we—ngh—had to forage for a l-lot of our food. I got r-really sick once from e-eating something, I-I don't even remember—ngh—what it was. I-I had horrible stomach cramps and vomiting s-so violent…w-well…you know… I-I think I…peed m-my p-p-pants a few times" he chuckled nervously. "B-but after that…I don't like to remember."

The scratching was so intense that Craig saw the flesh turn raw, and his own arm shot out convulsively to secure the wrist which was propelling the destructive behavior. This made Tweek freeze with fear and stare wide eyed into Craig's piercing blue gaze. He let out an agonizing whine.

"P-p-please let go—ngh"

Craig defiantly and firmly held on without breaking his glare.

"Stop scratching." He held up Tweek's hand into the moonlight to confirm his suspicions. "You see that? Your nails have so much shit under them, it's a wonder you don't get infection." He noticed that the rims of the blonde's eyes were starting to glisten. Shit. That's what he gets for meddling. He robotically let go of Tweek's wrist which, he hurriedly took back and held it to his chest still frozen in place. Frustrated and dejectedly, Craig kicked out his own futon that rolled out onto the floor and he plopped down without looking at Tweek again. He didn't want to see that look in his eyes, it just made his cold heart feel shitty all over. If he had just declined the entire conversation thing he probably would have avoided this situation that made him feel vulnerable. He hated it. There was absolutely no reason why he _should_ feel this insecure. He was only sick of watching Tweek fucking destroy his skin.

"T-t-thank you…" a small voice said above Craig, which made the Captain furrow his brows. He didn't bother responding; instead he crossed his arms as he lay down facing the wall of the cabin. "I'm always—ngh—doing something t-that ends up hurting me. I-I'm not used t-t-to people telling me not to anymore…"

Suddenly the shitty feeling disappeared in a miraculous sort of way, and it was replaced with something else Craig wasn't used to. He couldn't even put a label on it, but he felt lighter. But also something else, which he knew was empathy. He understood what it was like to be so long without anyone concerned with his well-being. Even if he declined any sort of worry about himself, it didn't mean that the presence of people didn't aid him in the same way. The way Craig felt about people was complicated. He liked having others around, but he also disliked communication. It was a paradox in which he struggled with everyday.

"Thanks for—ngh—talking with me, g-good night." Tweek said lowering himself onto the adjacent futon covering himself with a thicker blanket. On that note, Craig also pulled a blanket over himself and screwed his eyes shut. At least he could attempt to sleep, however, at the rate his thoughts were going at he knew it would be a long night to come. One thing the repeatedly popped up was the way he felt interacting with Tweek.

When he looked into Tweek's teary eyes, something tore at him. He actually felt bad for making him cry. He didn't feel bad about a lot of things, so this instance really made him question himself. It seemed as though his social paradox was null and void within the perimeter of Tweek. He was conversing, with a near stranger, which seemed otherworldly to Craig. There wasn't the compulsive need to avoid conversation with him; in fact, he even invited it.

There was the nagging feeling of when he first met Clyde, how he developed that friendship. It had been so long since he had felt that, he didn't know that it could even come back as tough, perhaps even stronger than the first time. Even as he and Clyde had drifted somewhat apart in the past few years, he was fonder of Clyde than the others. By which Craig can handle speaking to Clyde more so than the others. He knew he could count on the brunette, he trusted him.

But it was bizarre how quickly those feeling returned to him speaking with Tweek.

There's no way he could feel so strongly about the guy after meeting him for the first time. There was distrust in the blonde's actions, but the way he spoke, no, more like jibber jabbered, but there was this undying trustfulness tracing every word. Perhaps the blonde was just a blabber mouth, and didn't know how to control himself, which by what Craig has seen so far, could be entirely true. But he observed every time Tweek ranted on and on that the more he spoke the less he twitched; the less his words would get strangled in his throat from violent vocal tics. He certainly wasn't an expert on behavior, but he knew enough to realize that maybe the guy was stupid enough to trust Craig with all of that information, a complete stranger. Yet even he found himself disclosing new information about himself to the newcomer. It was irritating, yet satisfying.

But the Captain smothered those feelings when he realized that talking to a stranger wasn't exactly the safest action in these times. Even with everything Tweek told him about his life, there was definitely something else the blonde was hiding.

What exactly did he do when he was a rebel slave?

There was a reason Craig didn't trust Tweek completely; he just wished he knew _why._

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><p><strong>AN: Hey all! Sorry it took so long to update, and for such a pathetic chapter :( But winter break will be soon for me and I'll get a better one out then. Thank you to all my reviewers!: <span>2shoes<span>, xSucksToYourAss-marx, ****Blah, SerenaKyle, TheDoomedOrangeParka, Amberr-chan, Addicted to Dean W, scarlettshazam, ChocolateMilkLOL, **

__**THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH. All of your reviews make me smile whenever I read them and they are motivation to continue writing this! **

**Questions, comments, suggestions. They are all welcome :)**


	5. Ebb and Flow

**Chapter 5: Ebb and Flow**

It had been two weeks since they arrived in the Gulf of Maine searching for fresher water and even fresher fish. It seemed the cooler waters in the north bore more fish just as Craig had suspected. The water was even clean enough to harvest some seaweed, which was a great treat from eating fish most of the time.

They travelled to another promising island that was bigger than the last and the surrounding shallows were even rockier. It was good bass fishing. They were finally able to stockpile some food considering the water here was much more plentiful than other places they had explored. They had a variety of fish dried and preserved, dried seaweed, some clams thanks to Kenny's diving excursions, and small sand crabs.

Craig was content with the area, so far everything seemed safe. He would inspect the distant shoreline via binoculars periodically just to be sure they weren't being watched. He knew there were others out on boats. They had thankfully avoided the ones that they did see; if they had a conflict with any of them, there was a high possibility of being captured and killed. They had no long range weapons. The best they had were spear-like poles with blades on the end of them, which they had primarily used for spear fishing. But since the sea-life was so scarce at the time, they'd end up swimming for hours before even seeing a fish and gave up. Then they were deemed defense weapons; as their usefulness was dried up.

The Captain made sure to avoid conflict like the plague, there was no use in risking his crew's life, for what? It was unnecessary, and truly troublesome. He'd rather live as peacefully as he can. Although with the conversation he overheard the other day he's not sure how much more "peacefully" he can live on the vessel.

_ While the others were in the main cabin enjoying their dinner, Craig heard someone come out very calmly and then all of a sudden wretch terribly. This caught his attention immediately but before he could even walk out to see who it was he heard Wendy's voice speak out after the cabin door opened again._

_ "Bebe? Bebe! Jesus, are you ok?" Her voice suddenly frantic. So it was Bebe throwing up. Craig peered out his window and saw the curly blonde spit into the water before standing up and wiping her chin._

_ "Yeah, I'm fine…" she replied weakly wiping her forehead._

_ "Obviously you're not; you just puked your guts out over the bow." Wendy said accusingly getting closer to Bebe's face._

_ "Aw, sick, Wendy don't take this the wrong way but your breath smells like rotten fish." She had to plug her nose and visibly suppressed a gag. Unfazed, Wendy kept talking._

_ "That smell never used to bother you, what's up?" She said the sweetness in her voice prevailing over her concern._

_ "I guess it started last week, every time I smell fish I get super fucking nauseas. I can eat it if I don't inhale through my nose but if I smell it the tiniest bit I can't hold it down." Bebe shivered a bit but sat back against the railing. "Wendy, you know you're my best friend right?" to which the brunette nodded. Bebe held her head in one hand while struggling to get the words out. "I think I'm **late**, late." _

_ Craig knew exactly what that meant._

_ "Are you serious? It was Kenny wasn't it? I knew you guys were up to something."_

_ "Yeah it was, but it's not like I could have pulled a fucking condom out of my back pocket." Her voice was soft and strangled. "What am I going to do Wendy? How am I supposed to do this? I don't even know if I can!"_

_ "It's alright, you know you don't **have** to do it…" Wendy said crouched next to her stroking a strand of her hyacinth curls._

_ "I know…But how could I even go through with it? It's not like there's a doctor on board, what happens if something goes wrong?" _

_ "You're right…But we could figure something out, no one is forcing you to do anything. And what ever you decide, I know for a fact you wouldn't be alone; you should talk to Kenny. He is a really nice guy, and I'm sure he wouldn't abandon you." _

_Bebe snorted, "Heh, he'd have to deal with my wrath and he knows it." Wendy gave a light chuckle in response. "You know, I will talk to Kenny… It is his too, and I really do like him. Maybe…Maybe I'd feel better after talking with him about it." The brunette gave Bebe a light pat on her shoulder._

_ "That sounds like a plan to me."_

_ "You're the best Wends," The busty girl said grabbing her black haired friend in a warm embrace._

_ "I'm always here for you, Bebe."_

_ Craig watched the two girls exchange some more words and as Bebe was leaving her eyes met his. Her face went an embarrassing shade of red and she hurriedly moved both her and Wendy back into the main cabin, shutting the door behind her. _

_ Whether or not Bebe would keep the baby, he didn't know. He didn't want to have an opinion; it wasn't as if he was going to carry the baby, and as long as it didn't endanger his crew in any way, he could care less. It would be one more mouth to feed, but he knew people had to procreate at some point, otherwise what kind of future could they look forward to? It may not be within his generations reach, but god damnit he wouldn't just give up, he would continue to live his life for the future of their world. To protect the people around him gave him purpose, it reminded him that there was a reason he was alive. A new addition wouldn't hinder them; it could only strengthen the value's they live by. _

He still hadn't heard about whether or not she would keep the pregnancy, perhaps they were still keeping it a secret. But it couldn't be hidden forever, eventually if she decided to keep it; people would notice her bulging belly and immediately know what was going on. But it ultimately wasn't his business, and he was eavesdropping, so he said nothing to anyone, as if it was difficult to begin with. He didn't even ask Bebe what was going on, but she knew that he knew what was going on. She would avoid his looks and avoid his very company if he were to stray over to the other side of the boat for any reason.

The winter season was approaching quickly, and Craig made the decision that they would stay in the area during the winter. The snow and ice would be harsh but they had supplies to keep them warm. Thankfully Butters knew how to knit, and he made blankets and sweaters for everyone; granted they weren't the prettiest garments, but damn were they warm. When they would dock for supplies on shore they would come across many different abandoned stores, one of which happened to be a yarn outlet. It was packed to the brim with assorted types of yarn, which Butters happily selected all of the warm and cozy yarns to create winter gear with. He went a little crazy with the colors but no one complained because they were so warm when it was below freezing outside.

Another problem was shoes. Shoes were a hard commodity to come by for some reason, and they struggled to find proper winter footgear in the wreckage. No matter how many layers of Butter's hand knit socks you wore, it still couldn't protect you from slipping on deck and soaking you to the bone with freezing water. Craig had given up all of the good boots he found to the other crew members, and opted for a ratty pair of running sneakers, which suited him just fine. In a lot of cases everyone's shoes were miss-matched, due to the fact that finding an in tact pair was near impossible.

And then there was Tweek, who came to them with only a pair of overly large cut-off jeans that he had ripped accidentally. The other day Butters had finished a huge maroon sweater just for Tweek, since he shivered constantly. It was such an ugly color, and it didn't fit his bony frame at all; Tweek nonetheless thanked Butters profusely, for such a thoughtful gift. He still suffered from exposed legs and feet, which wouldn't do any good in winter. So the Captain set up a docking plan to check the shore for boots and pants that would cover Tweek's legs.

As usual, Craig would take a few people with him ashore and leave some strong independent people behind to monitor the boat. This time he chose Clyde, Kenny, Eric, and Token to come with him ashore. To which Eric fussed about being shafted, but Craig usually blocks most of the shit that comes out of the fatasses mouth.

"You know, I cook and shit all day long and what do I get in return? _Oh __Eric __thanks __for __cooking __and __cleaning __now __be __our __bitch __and __get __more __shit __for __everyone __else_. What fucking bullshit, why not make that new bitch come out and do this work? He doesn't do anything! I'm in the kitchen sla-"

"Would you just shut your fat fuckin' mouth? I'm sick-a-hearin' you pissin' and moanin'!" Kenny said gruffly while plopping onto the wooden dock. Eric ungracefully plopped down and argued with Kenny more as Clyde, Token, and Craig continued ahead to search the area. This was routine to them now, and Craig didn't have to explain how much time they would spend looking and what to do if they saw someone.

Craig walked off in the direction of a promising main street looking area. The road was cracked and crumbled from yearly frost heaves; the houses decaying from lack of maintenance, some had even collapsed due to heavy snowfall. Garbage littered the ground, it was just everywhere, plastic, cans, old newspaper, and they hid most of the pavement like patches of snow. He was cautious of his surroundings, constantly checking for anything that may look like a shelter. God knows who could be hiding out in this town.

His mind wandered aimlessly to the nights he had been up talking to Tweek. Every other night or so the blonde would be up and about fidgeting and unable to sleep; and usually Craig wasn't sleeping either. So they talked.

They talked about meaningless things, like toys they used to play with, or what they remember school was like. Little by little Craig found himself accidentally revealing small details about himself. Like that growing up his favorite cartoon was Red Racer, or how he liked the dry snow of Colorado, and that he really loved sour candy. It was like that with Tweek, and whether or not the blonde was aware of this fact, he didn't know. He realized how easily little things like that can slip out of him when talking with Tweek. It was different, far different than when he used to talk with Clyde. Clyde would try everything to pry up any detail he could get out of Craig, but he wouldn't budge. It wasn't like he was getting deeply personal with Tweek, he wasn't sure he was even capable of that; but he did wonder what the limit was on how much he could disclose to the blonde. He didn't want to get personal, touchy feely with him. It just wasn't him, Craig was never the person who wore his heart on his sleeve. He wore his heart in a safe, in a box, within an iron barred cage.

He came across a building that looked fairly desolate, and walked over the crunching glass beneath his feet; it looked like it had been a second hand outlet, which he could maybe score some foot gear.

He zipped up the rest of his wind breaker, trying to keep out the cold from his toasty under layer of hand knit comfort. His clothes were probably the most worn of all, considering he tended to give the other members rather than keeping them for himself. He had a pair of rugged cargo jeans which served him well, keeping a pocket knife and other knick knacks that could potentially come in handy, especially on trips like these. You never know when you might need a lock pick, can-opener or a kerosene-lighter.

As he sifted through a pile of sheetrock and assorted cabinet bits, he found a sign that said "discounted goods" which intrigued him. After he pulled out a few larger pieces of rubble he saw a metal cyndrical object. He may not have grabbed it before, but he found himself tucking it into his side bag, regardless of its usefulness.

He swiftly moved through the store only finding a pair of jeans that could potentially fit Tweek. He was a pretty skinny guy, mostly skin and bones. He was sure they would fit, with a rope belt of course. But they were better than what he had on right now. The draft was probably giving him hypothermia. If anyone on board needed a warm pair of clothes it was the no-body fat Tweek. He shoved the pants in his side bag and continued.

Tweek…Tweek… God damned Tweek. He was here sifting through all shit for Tweek, and therefore thinking _about_ Tweek.

Tweek,

Tweek,

…

What the fuck.

The Captain tugged at his blue chullo hat in frustration, it wasn't like him to get so easily flustered over something. But that nagging feeling was back, and it was stronger than the first time. It wasn't as if he were buddy buddy with the guy, like Clyde wished he was. But he felt himself…_need _it.

Craig paused.

He didn't need any of that, it seemed completely irrational and trivial to _need _something like what Tweek offers. What exactly does Tweek offer? Conversation? Companionship? Then what?

The Captain shrugged it off, too tired of debating with himself. He needed to just get the supplies and leave. When he couldn't find any shoes, he wandered back to the ship, in the hopes that someone else had found a pair.

He was greeted with the prosperous sight of Clyde grinning like a mad man and holding up a pair of boots. An in tact pair. Of course he could rely on Clyde to get the job done.

"Hey Craig! Check out these babies! Waterproof and everything! A nice find if I do say so myself" the brunette cried waving the boots around a little. Token stood next to him with his arms crossed, an amused smile on his face.

"You wouldn't have found them if I didn't suggest going through the piles of boxes." Token said playfully, to which Clyde pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah, as if! You're just jealous that I scored a gnarly pair of boots!"

Token smiled put his hand on the back of Clyde's head and shoved it downward, "Yeah right. Me jealous of you? Not in a million years bro."

"Oh Token, it's a pity you can't recognize the awesomeness that is I, Clyde. Someday you will be as cool as me." Token rolled his eyes but still kept a warm smile. Token could always handle Clyde's enthusiastic nature.

It seemed as though Kenny and Eric returned at the same time as Craig, but with an armful of goods. Craig was too preoccupied with returning to the boat to notice what they had grabbed; he didn't like being ashore for very long. They promptly hopped up on deck and proceeded to travel back to the outlying islands. Tweek was given his new apparel and was quick to put them on.

"T-thanks guys…I-I-I really—ngh—appreciate what you did. Thank you." He stammered while fiddling with the sleeve of his maroon sweater. Craig merely nodded and returned to his post at the front of boat.

This time Craig picked a bigger island, one they could anchor closer to the shore. That night they all went on the island and lit a small campfire with the permission of their Captain. Reluctantly, Craig joined them on the beach against his normal procedure. Maybe it was so he could monitor their fire making, he didn't want it to get too big and attract people to their area. Everyone was laughing and having a good time when Kenny stood up abruptly.

"So, uh…Everyone, I got an announcement to make." He dramatically cleared his throat and held out his hand to Bebe who was sitting next him. She shyly took his hand and stood up with him. Everyone looked at each other with puzzled expressions. "So…um…heh…"

"We're having a baby." Bebe finished for Kenny who was too flustered to even speak.

Nobody spoke up at first; Bebe was eagerly watching Craig's reaction, which he only granted her a blank stare. She started to nibble on her lower lip as the awkward silence grew in intensity. No one wanted to whoop and holler because they didn't know how it would affect the outcome of their crew.

"Congratulations." Craig finally said that earned a few surprised glances. He knew that this would eventually happen; Bebe seemed like the motherly type, despite her badass exterior.

"Yeah! Sweet guys! I'm going to be an Uncle!" Clyde cried out exuberantly. Kenny let go of the breath he was holding and pulled the lady at his side in for a big wet kiss on the cheek. Everyone began chatting happily about the news when Eric's gruff voice broke the atmosphere.

"Hang on a minute. First we take in the twitchy asshole. Now we're going to have a _baby_ on board_?_ Has it occurred to anyone that there may not be enough room on the bloody boat for all these people? Can we even provide for another person? We were scrounging by with what he had in the first place, and now two more? This is bullshit if you ask me."

Everyone went silent and the moral dropped significantly. Tweek was shaking and biting into his lower lip while avoiding eye contact. Bebe had a furious expression plastered over her features, but before she could say anything Wendy spoke up.

"Listen Eric, if you're so against helping out a fellow human being, and welcoming new ones, then no one is forcing you to stay." Her tone was deadly, laced with bitterness reserved for Eric's snide and unnecessary remarks.

"Excuse me, I was only concerned with—"

"Shut up! I thought long and hard about this, and I know we'll manage somehow. People did this long before there were doctors and medicine, so I know it can work. We'll make it work, right Craig?" She gave the black haired man a pleading look. Craig stared at her and gave a curt nod; acknowledging the fact that it would work out one way or another.

She was right; humans were able to procreate without hospitals and doctors, there was no reason they couldn't successfully deliver a baby. But he was concerned with how the baby would survive after it was born, what kind of life would it be able to have? He didn't know, but he would try his hardest to give it a good life. Regardless of the fact that it wasn't his child.

Craig glanced over at Tweek who was holding his legs to his chest, his eyes almost brimming with wetness. Something in him ached, like someone's hand had lurched into his chest and squeezed his heart. Tweek didn't feel welcome thanks to that fat asshole. And that bothered the Captain, enough to make him broodier than usual. While the mood settled down, the conversation turned back to the baby.

"So I don't mean to sound intrusive, but does anyone have any prior knowledge of delivering babies?" Kyle asked out of the blue. Wendy perked up.

"Well, I know quite a bit, probably enough to get by." This didn't seem to satisfy Kyle's question.

"That's great, but what happens if something goes wrong? Would we know how to handle it?" people looked at each other with blank stares. "It's just, I'm concerned with your well-being is all…" he trailed off and retracted himself.

"I know Kyle, and I appreciate that. But how else am I going to do this? It's not as if we planned the entire thing out." Bebe said as Kenny rubbed her shoulders.

"Trying to end the pregnancy wouldn't be an easy feat either Kyle, it could actually pose a greater threat to her health than delivering the baby. None of us really have the know-how on how these procedure's even work." Wendy added thoughtfully. There was a pause among the crew.

"It will be ok, I know you're a tough woman Bebe, I haven't seen a thing that you haven't been able to conquer, this will just be another notch in the pole." Stan inserted reassuringly.

"Thanks sweetie, I'm trying to look at this positively."

"So Kenny, what did you think?" Clyde asked without any forethought. Most of the men cringed awaiting an almost certain argument to form from Kenny's answer.

"T'be honest, I'm actually pretty damn excited."

"No shit?"

"Yeah, it's somehow a comfortin' thought, even though there could be complications. I mean, it's totally mind-blowin'," The southern blonde said snaking his hand around Bebe and lightly rubbing her belly. "that somethin' like a lil' baby is growin' in there,"

"It's not that hard to believe you doofus." Bebe said lightly smacking his hand away.

The night faded pretty quickly from then, and the crew retreated back to the ship after putting out their fire. Craig watched Tweek's hunched over body walk to the shore and take a seat in the less than ideal dingy they use for occasions like this. It was bright orange and covered in duct tape, poor thing had gone through a lot in the past few years. But it allowed them to go back and fourth to the ship without chilling themselves to the bone and soaking their warm clothes.

Everyone settled nicely into their bunks, except for Tweek, who lie awake tossing and turning. Craig heard the occasional whimper from the futon next to him. He knew that Tweek was upset about Eric's tirade earlier, but what the hell was he supposed to do about it?

"C-Craig?" he whispered softly to the adjacent futon.

"Hm,"

"D-do you wanna talk?"

Craig was quiet, but he rolled over anyway to face the blonde who was so close he could smell the tears that stained his cheeks even though it was so dark that he could hardly make out Tweek's outline. When the blonde heard Craig flip over, he took it as a sign to begin talking.

"I don't—ngh—want to leave. B-but I also don't want t-t-to be a burden on other people. I feel really bad about—ngh—m-making you guys take care of me. Y-you shouldn't have to, and I'm trying r-really hard to be helpful, and try and get lots of f-food for you s-s-so I don't seem like such a….problem."

Tweek never hesitated expressing his insecurities about being on the boat. He always felt like a burden to everyone, which was entirely unfortunate. When Craig didn't reply, the blonde mistook his silence for irritation.

"Am I bothering you—ngh? I-I'm sorry, I'll try to go b-b-b-back to sleep…" Tweek rolled over embarrassed and stifling his heavy breathing from being unable to breathe through his stuffy nose.

There was that nagging again.

What should he do? Craig wasn't exactly the master of comfort. In fact, he lacked so much in that area that he hadn't used that skill in years. But then Craig remembered the item he picked up in town that day; the item that meant absolutely nothing to him. But it reminded him of Tweek. The Captain sat up and grabbed his side bag from under the cupboard. Tweek heard him fiddling around with something before an item was placed in his hands so delicately yet clumsily due to the darkness that he thought it may have been breakable. But as Craig's hand left the object and he returned to his futon, Tweek recognized the ribbed metal cylinder. His heart skipped a beat when he realized it was a can of coffee grounds.

Tweek could smell the grounds over the scent of dirt which crusted the outside of the can. Tweek felt his eyes water again, but not from being sad. He gingerly brushed his fingertips over the cool metal surface before whispering, "Thank you."

Craig didn't feel the nagging anymore.

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><p><strong>AN: Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter! If you see any discrepencies in this chapter I apologize, I wanted someone to Beta it but I didn't get anyone in time, oh well. I hope that it's acceptable sob.**

**Thank you to all my beautiful reviewers: Amberr-chan, 2shoes, PunjabiKangaroo, Addicted to Dean W, ChocolateMilkLOL, and xSucksToYourAss-marx.**

**Seriously guys, your reviewers always brighten my day when I see them, and they truly inspire me to continue. I love this fic so much and it makes me giddy to know that others enjoy it as well! **

**Comments/Suggestions are highly encouraged. I'd love to know your opinions about this world and where you think it will continue from here!**


	6. Purpose

**Chapter 6: Purpose**

**A/N: May contain violent mature content, read at your own discretion**

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><p>The surrounding atmosphere smelled glorious from the bubbling can settled over a small fire. Tweek was using his ration of water to make his first cup of coffee since before he was separated from his parents. He hovered over the pedestal he created on the main deck that they normally use for cooking; his eyes strained and focused on each beautifully brown bubble breaking the surface.<p>

"Dude, Tweek, uh…You ok?" Clyde asked curiously while traipsing over to his side of the deck.

The rest of the crew were on the island beach, breaking away from habit and just pole fishing that day. The air was crisp and chilly; making everyone wrap up warmly in the garments Butters had created for them.

Tweek didn't respond, in any way shape or form, he was too entirely focused on the coffee brewing in front of him. He was currently cooking on their makeshift fire pit that would allow them to safely have a small fire; it consisted of a tire rim, a large flat rock and propped up sticks to hold up the can.

"I see you're a…making coffee?" The brunette tried again while squatting next to the fixated blonde.

"Yup." Tweek squeaked so quietly that Clyde barely heard him. Clyde noticed that he was holding onto the metal coffee can.

"How did you get a hold of coffee? I didn't see anyone bring it back, it's not something we normally have." The brunette carefully watched Tweek, but almost yelped when he lurched forward and took the can off the flame.

"It's d-done."

"Oh yeah?" Clyde said wiping his brow. Tweek glanced at him before taking another empty can and using a pair of mittens to safely handle the scorching metal tin. Tweek was shaking so badly that the coffee almost sloshed over the sides. He tipped the can full of grounds and boiling water slowly into the empty can trying to avoid any grounds falling in. Clyde was pretty impressed at how well he was doing this considering he was nearly convulsing. When the can was full he set down the hot one and gripped the new steaming can of coffee. He took a dramatic inhale before sipping lightly on the jagged edge. There was a moment of peace within Tweek at that moment and he kept his eyes closed to savor the commodity.

When Tweek opened his eyes again he shyly looked at Clyde and bit his lip struggling to get the words out. "Would you um…W-would you like a cup?" He felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment from being so selfish. But it was his first sip of coffee in years, so he figured he could be a bit selfish.

Clyde shook his head and wrinkled his nose, "Naw, I appreciate it man, but I couldn't drink that stuff black like you do, I'd need like, a 10:1 ratio of milk and sugar to coffee." Tweek smirked a bit at this; he could just tell that Clyde would be a wuss about drinking black coffee. But another thing crossed his mind.

"H-hang on—ngh—a minute, I'll b-be right back." The blonde said pouring some of his precious coffee into another empty tin before heading off with both in his hands.

"Um, ok? I'll just be here…" Clyde said staring off at him, what a weird guy. But Tweek was on a mission to deliver some of the godsend to the person that gave it to him. He didn't think it was right that he keep it all to himself, although it pained him to offer it to other people. Secretly he wanted it all, but he couldn't do that to everyone, not in the state of things. The least he could do was offer some to Craig.

He glided over the deck and found Craig sitting at the front of the boat, back to the wheelhouse, toes outstretched while holding a fishing pole. Weren't his feet cold? But Tweek's sudden intrusion brought Craig's apathetic gaze to him which made him freeze. There was something about his stare that made him want to crawl inside himself. It wasn't anything malicious, but it was like Craig's eyes were so deeply vast that they could swallow him whole. The longer he stood there the more he felt jittered and the more his words got clogged in his throat.

"Did you need something?" Craig deadpanned; something out of the usual for him. Tweek did his best to inch forward and place a hot can of coffee next to the Captain. When he was satisfied with the position of the can, he briefly made eye contact and muttered a "thanks again" under his breath before quickly leaving the Captain's gaze. He didn't even look to see if Craig had even accepted it, he could be pouring it overboard!

Tweek hurriedly made his way back to Clyde before he convinced himself to go back and secure the safety of the coffee.

"Welcome back, did you go see Craig?" the brunette asked while watching the clouds rolling in.

"Y-yeah," the blonde said securing a position next to Clyde. He'd grown fond of the guy, he was always super cool to him even when he first got there, and if it hadn't been for him, he may not be on the boat.

"Gave him the other coffee I see, did he like it? I didn't know Craig liked coffee." There was a hint of sadness in his voice. Clyde always wished the he and Craig were as close as they used to be.

"I-I don't know if he—ngh—drank it or not. B-but I just wanted to thank him for giving it to me." Tweek noticed Clyde's awe stricken stare.

"_Craig,_ gave that to you?"

"Um…NGH—yes?" He didn't realize that there was something wrong with that. Clyde looked absolutely baffled, unable to formulate the right words.

"Well, I mean, it's not a bad thing by any means, it's just that, I've known the guy for a _very_ long time, and not once in all those years I've known him, did he ever go out of his way to get something special for someone. You must be fucking rad or something." Tweek knew that "special" meant something not on the necessity list. Hearing this made him feel better about handing away a perfect cup of coffee without certainty of its future. He felt bubbly in his gut, just like the coffee had been boiling and it was just as searing hot. It was then when Clyde nudged his foot against Tweek's trying to not overstep his boundaries.

"I don't mean to pry, but I'm just curious as to why he's taken such a liking to you."

"I didn't—ngh—think he l-liked me." Tweek said before sipping on his delicious brew. "We just t-talk sometimes." Clyde gave him a curious look.

"You're kidding right? Don't you remember me telling you about him when you first got here? He doesn't say shit to anybody, he might throw a few words here and there but I haven't heard him actually talk in years." Tweek started picking at a cuticle, he wasn't sure where this conversation was going, even though the things he was being told were generally good things; he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being interrogated for being some sort of witch-crafter.

"I swear I didn't do anything! I'm not—ngh—a wizard or anything! I j-just talk t-to him sometimes h-he talks back! I'M NO VOODOO PRIESTESS, MAN!GAH!" Clyde forgot how overly dramatic Tweek could be.

"Whoah! Hang on, I'm not accusing you of anything, I was just curious is all, I believe you!" Tweek looked at him, still picking at a cuticle but a bit more fevered. He knew he shouldn't do this because he knows once the cuticle is loose that he keep picking at it and then when he picks it off he'll just pick at the open spot, and then he'll start picking until it bleeds, and then… "Dude, you ok?" Clyde asked watching him destroy his cuticle.

"Y-yeah, sorry…" Tweek said covering his hand with his sleeve. Tweek could tell Clyde would leave the subject alone, but he knew he was still curious.

Tweek finished his coffee with a discontented sigh, wishing that he could drink more, but saved the grounds to use them again. It wouldn't be as good, but he'd use them till they couldn't give him any more coffee. He sat in silence with Clyde for moment longer they got up to clean the deck like they were supposed to be doing. Tweek grabbed a worn out scrubber and hauled some water over the bow in a bucket. He started on one side of the deck while Clyde began at the other.

Tweek scrubbed as hard as he could, it was tough work, it was crazy how nasty the deck could get, and his fingers were so cold from being wet and out in the open. He strangled a gag in his throat as the scrubber picked off chunks of grime. Distractedly, he found himself scrubbing the bow and watching everyone on shore.

Kenny was sitting on a rock with 3 rods in the sand around him, sitting cross-legged and focused until Bebe came up behind him with a string of fish on a line. They were distant, but Tweek strained his ears enough to hear their dialogue.

"Check these out partner." She said while draping her arm on his shoulder. He gave her a toothy grin.

"I'd expect nothin' less from you darlin'" She gave him a peck on the cheek before walking off the put her catch with the others. Kenny discreetly smacked her bottom as she left which made her turn around and stick out her tongue. Tweek felt himself blush a little, he wasn't used to such intimacy out in the open, but he could tell from each of their personalities that they were too ostentatious to keep it to themselves like that, especially with the news of Bebe's pregnancy out in the open. He found himself scrubbing slower as he inspected the rest of the crew.

Wendy was huddled up next to Stan, striking up a conversation he couldn't make out. It looked as though Wendy was chatting happily to Stan who just held a smirk while listening to her. She looked absolutely radiant, flushed cheeks, long flowing black hair, she was practically glowing while talking to Stan. He heard them laugh; Stan's laughter was deep and genuine.

His eyes drifted over to Butters and Eric who were on the other side of the island, but he could see them through the trees. He didn't know if they were talking, if they were they it was very quiet. For some reason Butters trailed around Eric like a lost puppy dog, even though Eric was quick to treat him like shit. It didn't matter, Butters do just about anything for Eric. Tweek almost felt sorry for Butters who was just a too nice person. Eric turned his head and was angrily spouting off something at Butters who cowered and let his ears take the full brunt of it. It looked like the blonde had accidentally knocked Eric's lunch in the sand. The commotion drew attention to their tiff, but Eric didn't stop berating Butters, instead he lifted his hand and looked as though he would hit him. Kyle yelled at him and Eric actually stopped, and furiously looked around the island and screamed at the top of his lungs.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LOOKING AT? HUH? IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS." His angry glare met Tweek's and Tweek thought he'd die of heart failure.

"AND YOU, YOU TWITCHY ASSHOLE, WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING? SITTING AROUND BEING LAZY AM I RIGHT? HOW ABOUT YOU DO SOMETHING FOR ONCE YOU PIECE OF SHIT!" Tweek fell backwards onto the deck, scrubber frozen in his hand. He felt humiliated; he was just engrossed in what was happening. Eric's voice was so loud that he could hear it from that far away, and it startled him; rattled something within him, and now he felt broken and loose. He didn't like being yelled at. For some reason yelling and screaming always made him upset, even at a young age; when his parents would yell, even if it wasn't at him, he felt the urge to cry. Clyde rushed over to where Tweek lay on the deck.

"What the hell is going on? Why is Eric screaming? He knows full well he shouldn't be yelling like that." He looked down at Tweek, "You alright?"

The blonde felt his nerves fray and his fragile well-being crack a little under pressure. Eric was right; he was a lazy good for nothing. He didn't offer anything to this crew than they already had. There was no reason for him to stay, but he had no where else to go. The mere thought of being by himself on the mainland scared the shit out of him. There were rebels there, he didn't know where and how, but eventually he would run into them and he would probably meet a similar fate as his parents. It terrified him, even after he got away from a life of slavery there was the fear of uncertainty that floated with him as he drifted on the ocean current. He couldn't let himself fall into rebel hands again, he _wouldn__'__t_. He didn't want to go through what he endured before.

Clyde should feel lucky that he hadn't disclosed every detail of his captured days and escape.

"Tweek?" Clyde said again when Tweek's eyes became glazed over. The blonde snapped out of his trance and looked up at the brunette who hovered over him. Clyde offered him a hand up, which he took timidly.

"S-sorry…" he stuttered out apologetically. Clyde shook his head as he hauled Tweek to his feet.

"No need Dude, you should know by know that Eric is just a giant dickhead." Tweek just nodded, unsure of what else to say. He still felt useless regardless of what anyone said. He shifted his gaze towards the front of the deck and caught Craig's eyes as they looked back to see what the commotion was; but as soon as he saw the Captain's stare, it was gone. Tweek started to think he was seeing things.

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><p>Craig had gotten up as usual that day, assigned work to be done and returned to his normal post with a fishing rod in hand. However he did get up earlier than Tweek today, which was a bit odd; they usually awoke around the same time, but for whatever reason Tweek did not rouse. So he went on with business as usual.<p>

Another thing out of the ordinary was the routine changer. Craig decided that on shore fishing would yield more food and let everyone but Clyde and Tweek go ashore. The deck needed washing, and he figured it would be a good job for Tweek so as to make him feel more useful.

One of the first things he noticed was how the chilled air had a hint of coffee wafting through it. He knew that Tweek had gotten into the can, and was currently working on making himself a cup. After he had given the can to Tweek the night before, they didn't speak and Tweek actually went to sleep much faster ironically. Craig was just content with the fact that his thoughtfulness served him well.

Just as he was thinking about the coffee, Tweek appeared next to him holding two cans. The blonde was just standing there looking like he needed to say something, but every time he opened him mouth nothing came out.

"Did you need something?" He deadpanned, wondering as to why the blonde was just barged over here without explanation. Then finally, Tweek moved closer and put down a steaming can of coffee next to him. He heard him say "Thanks again," and then he left alarmingly quick.

Craig looked at the coffee for a moment, watching the steam wisp through the cold air before picking up the hot tin and taking a scalding sip. It was black and bitter, but Craig rather enjoyed it. It was different, new, and warm; something he could appreciate in the chilly weather. Maybe he liked it more because he knew how much of a sincere gesture it was coming from Tweek. The Captain knew how much the blonde loved coffee, and to share it with him made the nagging writhe incessantly in him. The black haired man put the rod's handle between his knees and held the can with both hands, allowing the warmth to flood his fingers. He breathed in the aromatic scent that could cure a man from hypothermia.

It was long before he finished his can and placed it beside him and returned to jigging his line. But just as soon as he relaxed against the wheelhouse he heard Eric's voice bellow through the atmosphere at an impressive volume. He could hear him insulting Tweek; which made him feel a rage that was very foreign to him. Not only was he being loud enough to draw attention to them, but he was deliberately making Tweek feel useless; which he knew wasn't true.

He wasn't sure what exactly made him let Tweek stay, but he knew eventually Tweek would figure out his niche. It was only a matter of time.

He glanced behind and around the edge of the wheel house to see what had happened and noticed Tweek on the ground with an almost ghost like expression. It made heart lurch for a moment until he saw his hands move, stupid irrationality. But there was a brief moment as Tweek got up that he locked eyes, but he quickly returned to a normal sitting position. No need to get involved if everything was ok. However, he was going to chew Eric a new asshole later. Maybe he was just paranoid, but it didn't hurt to be cautious about keeping their location as secret as possible.

Craig felt a nibble, his first one all day. He carefully reeled slowly, keeping some tension on the line, then he felt the fish strike the bait, at that moment he jerked the rod back and felt that he had successfully hooked a fish.

Jesus, it kinda felt big too.

Craig raised the drag on his pole and felt the fish take the lure further out the sea. There was an adrenaline rush that busted through his veins via the harsh palpitations his heart produced.

It was always like this for him. He fished when he was younger, sure, but to do this now, in this situation, it was as if it were a life changing catch.

If Craig failed to reel the fish in before it got away; then the fish would get to live another day but the stomachs of his crew would suffer. It was this pivotal moment of each day proved how well the survivors would fair. Craig almost felt sorry for taking what life the fish would have lived, in order to feed his crew. But he would make the same decision over and over again, anything to ensure their safety and wellbeing.

As Craig began to reel, he noticed the fish was tiring and it became easier to pull it in. The moment the fish broke the water's surface he knew that it was a nice catch, and as he hauled it over the bow he recognized it as a cod. A very nice catch indeed.

Craig wondered if Tweek would ever feel this good about contributing something to the group.

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><p>"Son, can you play me a memory,<p>

I'm not really sure how it goes  
>But it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete,<br>When I wore a younger man's clothes."

Then the entire crew broke out with "La la di di da! la da di di da, da dum! Sing us a song you're the piano man! Sing us a song tonight! Well we're all in the mood for a melody, and you've got us feelin' alright!" Then Kenny and Clyde broke out in the next verse to Piano Man, a personal favorite among the crew. Craig could hear them singing it from inside the main cabin; he preferred to stay in the wheelhouse. It was too crowded and noisy. He was actually surprised how well Tweek had taken to the confined space, he hadn't come out screaming yet so he figured it was a good thing.

After the song was done, he heard Bebe's and Wendy's voice pipe up "Hey Kenny! Can we do our song?" Craig knew what song that meant, and apparently Kenny agreed because he heard some strumming on the old acoustic guitar Kenny had brought with him when he joined the group. It sounded a bit funny, probably due to the constant moisture, and it was missing a string; but Kenny knew how to play _very_ well, and it showed when he heard him picking up the opening of the song.

He heard Kenny plucking the strings with a finesse that the other crew members envied. Then he heard Wendy's voice begin the first verse,

"I took my love and I took it down,

"I climbed a mountain and I turned around," then he heard Bebe's harmony come in.

"and I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills, and the landslide brought me down.

"Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love? Can the child within my heart rise above? Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides? Can I handle the seasons of my life? Mhm, I don't know…mhm…

Well I've been 'fraid of changin', 'cause I built my life around you. But time makes you bolder, children get older. I'm getting older too…So…"

Whether Craig liked to admit it or not, he couldn't deny that he loved this song. It reminded him of Ruby. It hurt. Dreadfully so, but he can still remember from the time she was 3 she would sing this song because she heard it on the radio once. Craig had to clench his hand around his stomach to control himself. Maybe this was the reason why he stayed in the wheelhouse. Kenny finished up the instrumental part and the girl's voices chimed back in.

"I've been, 'fraid of changin', 'cause I, I built my life around you. But time makes you bolder, children get older, an' I'm getting older too…I'm getting older too…

"So, take this love, take it down. Oh, if you climb a mountain and you turn around, if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills. Well the landslide will bring you down, down. And if you see my reflection in the snoooowww, covered hills…Well maybe…The landslide will bring you down, well, well, the landslide will bring you, down…"

As the song ended and the guitar waned off, there was a somber moment among the crew. It seemed to affect everybody in one way or another. Craig bit back the feelings licking at his chest cavity, in his earlier days, he probably would have broken down, but he'd desensitized himself more or less. It still hurt, but it was bearable. A few moments later they must have decided to call it a night because he heard the main cabin quiet down and the door open, inevitably Tweek coming out to sleep. There was a recognizable quickness in his steps, from what explained was "The monsters like to hide in the dark and then they'll snatch me up"

The wheelhouse door opened softly and the blonde scuttled in closing it behind him. When he turned around he squeaked, clamping his hands around his mouth to prevent him from screaming; every time Tweek came in at night Craig always frightened him sitting there in the dark like some sort of voyeuristic demon.

"Erm, Hi." He said taking a few steps forward to reach for the futon under the bench. Awkward as always. Craig didn't bother greeting him; instead he followed Tweek's direction and kicked out his futon as well. It didn't take long for Tweek to begin his nightly ritual of talking to Craig.

"So, um—ngh—d-did you like the c-coffee? It wasn't too strong for you w-was it? Oh god, y-you hated it didn't you? NGH—you dumped it because y-you _hated_ it—NNNGH—I'm so stupid, I just wanted to thank you f-for getting it for m-me and-" Craig held his hand up.

"Relax, I liked it." And with that Tweek sunk onto his futon taking a deep breath of relief. But his stillness was reduced to twitches and tics in a matter of minutes when Tweek wanted to say something else. "Spit it out." Craig said impatiently.

"Uh, I…Um, hngh—I was just wondering w-why you got me the c-coffee…" Craig noticed the blonde was picking at his skin again. But he wasn't sure how to answer him, so he just told the truth.

"It reminded me of you." The Captain noticed the scratching becoming more vigorous. "Quit scratching." Tweek stop scratching and muttered an apology before continuing.

"W-well I really—ngh—appreciated it…I kn-know you don't do that for people often so—ngh—it means a lot." Craig felt his intestines twist in knots and that god damned nagging feeling was flooding through his gut. He didn't say anything back but allowed a comfortable silence between them, he's pretty sure Tweek knows his mannerisms by now.

But something made the hairs on the back of Craig's neck stand on end. Something wasn't right.

In the past this feeling indicated bad things, so he swiftly got to his feet startling Tweek in the process. "Jesus man! What the hell?" Craig came down hard and slapped a hand to Tweek's mouth making strained eye contact. He was inches from the blonde's face and harshly whispered,

"Please. Don't make a fucking sound." Tweek's eyes went wider than they already were and his twitches became near convulsions, but he nodded to Craig. The Captain was thankful that Tweek knew enough to realize when something was wrong. He peeled his hand off of Tweek's mouth he crept over to the wheelhouse door, peeking through the window on deck.

Nothing there, then he saw something in the distance. A dark object was on the water and it looked at though it was headed in their direction. Craig internally cursed as he grabbed the binoculars on the desk; Tweek was watching him intently, lips pressed into a hard line.

As he peered through the lenses, his fears were confirmed.

There were people in a small boat nearly 50 feet away.

Fuck.

He turned and kneeled in front of the cabinet under the desk and rummaged briefly until he found a hunting knife. He kept it for cutting down large branches and whatnot but he knew it would be useful if they were in a fight. He pivoted to face Tweek who was still as quiet as Craig instructed; he grabbed a bony wrist and placed the hunting knife in Tweek's hands enclosing Tweek's fingers around the handle with his own. The blonde stared down at the knife with pure terror written on his face.

"Use it if you need to. There are people in a boat nearby, I'll be right back, I need to wake the others first. Stay. Put."

"C-c-craig! Don't leave m-m-me! D-d-d-don't make me do this." Tweek whispered desperately.

"I'll be back in less than 60 seconds." And with that, Craig silently disappeared out of the wheelhouse and crept over the deck and into the main cabin. He knew Clyde always slept in the first chamber on the top bunk to the left. He felt the bed frame and walked to where Clyde's head should be.

"Clyde, get up. There's intruders, wake the others, right fucking now and get everyone out on deck in 15 seconds ready to try and scare the fuckers off." Clyde sat up and smacked his head against the roof and groaned but he got up and starting getting people up. Craig grabbed a fishing spear from the storage compartment and was about the open the door when he heard a blood curdling scream from on deck.

It was Tweek's voice.

There must have been another boat that was closer. Craig swung the door open ready to fight the assailants but what he saw made him stop short.

Tweek was stabbing a body relentlessly, holding the knife with both of his hands mercilessly gauging the body beneath him. Then he noticed another body.

Just as he was about the open his mouth another person climbed over the bow and tackled Tweek. Tweek screamed again and struggled against the larger person. Craig sprinted over ready to flip the fucker off of the blonde, but just as he reached him Tweek pushed the person off. He realized that the person was a man holding his neck, which gushed with blood.

The Captain looked down at the tackled blonde who was staring back at him with a wild look in his eyes; covered in blood that Craig knew wasn't his own.

He'd never seen this Tweek before. He was so entranced by this maniacal fiend that lay before him that when Tweek jumped up and attacked him he couldn't defend himself and he braced for the wound that he was sure to come.

But he felt no pain; instead he felt Tweek's body, pressed against his, stuck together with foreign blood, and a body behind him slumping onto the both of them. The Captain was frozen, as was the entire crew that just witnessed the whole scene. The black haired man inhaled the subtle scent of coffee mixed with the metallic bitterness of blood, the air so thick with it that it almost overpowered all of his senses. He could feel Tweek's hot ragged breath on the side of his face, breathing so heavily he could have mistaken him for a different person. This was not the Tweek they hauled over the bow, this was not the Tweek that was with them the past few weeks, this was not the Tweek whom he had given the coffee…No, this was the Tweek that he had been wary of.

As Tweek's body slipped away, he finally understood why he didn't trust him, and he finally understood how Tweek was useful to their crew.

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><p><strong>AN: OKIE DOKIE.<strong>

**What did you guys think? **

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**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN PIANO MAN BY BILLY JOEL OR LANDSLIDE BY FLEETWOOD MAC. OR SP FOR THAT MATTER. Thank you**

**Comments/suggestions are highly recommended.**


	7. Memories

**Chapter 7: Memories**

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><p><strong>Warning: This chapter may contain violent mature content, including mention of rape and murder, read at your own discretion.<strong>

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><p>Craig pulled a bucket of water over the bow, and sloshed the water onto the deck which was marred with dark crimson.<p>

The dawn crept over the horizon and lit up the sky, except the clouds muted the direct sunlight and left the landscape dull. Everything seemed gray, or monochromatic. It was like Mother Nature knew what had happened during the night and was reflecting the mood on deck. Most of the crew was awake throughout the night; they couldn't fall back asleep after the slaughter they witnessed. Craig had everyone except Clyde come out and do work with him. He didn't want to stress them out more than they already were. It was a laborious job, cleaning up blood. It was as if it soaked through the wood and refused to give up the evidence of death. Craig would try his best to expel all traces but he knew that there would still be parts of the deck that would forever be tarnished with deep red.

After Tweek killed the last of their attackers, he shut down, like an android that lost its power supply. He simply dropped the knife and slowly padded over to the wheelhouse, without looking at everyone who was staring at the gore scattered on the deck. He'd been in there ever since; Craig looked in at one time to check on him and he was sitting on the floor, back to the door hugging his knees. Not a word was exchanged.

The crew threw the bodies overboard without ceremony; they didn't have anything to spare in order to give them a proper burial at sea. They took what they could from the bodies and boats before abandoning them into the frigid waters. They were able to get some important supplies like weapons, canned food, and spare clothing. Craig decided they would fare best if they went out to sea for a few days to ride out any other rebels that had spotted them ashore and they lifted the anchor and sailed out towards open water.

As the Captain scrubbed at the wood, he was reminded of the stranger that Tweek became. It was haunting, to see a person that is usually clumsy and full of life turn into a precise and cold killer. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end thinking about the wild expression in Tweek's minty green eyes. He looked like a scared animal that had been pushed to its breaking point.

Craig wondered how such a transformation was able to occur. He had a hunch that it had something to do with the time he was captured, there's just no way that the Tweek he had come to understand would be able to perform such heinous acts.

But,

No one had gotten injured.

Seven men climbed aboard the ship and not one person was injured. It was amazing to know that they were all safe, but it was another thing knowing that one of your crew members had the capacity to kill so viciously. Tweek had never shown any inclination to hurt anyone before now, so what was it? Craig figured it would probably be safe letting him stay, but the pestering thought of if he would snap at an inappropriate time still bothered him.

Tweek did save him last night, he wasn't paying attention and Tweek killed the man sneaking up behind him. He probably would have been mortally wounded if not dead. Which reminded him…Craig looked down at his on clothes and saw that there was dried blood caked on his pants and shirt courtesy of Tweek. And he knew for a fact that Tweek was still covered in it, and probably got some in the wheelhouse. He sighed heavily before returning to work, trying to get the stains out of the wood.

When they finished, Craig dismissed Clyde to go get some rest before they all got up for the day. He glanced over the deck one last time before venturing off towards the wheel house. He grabbed a bucket of water and set it off to the side before opening the door, wondering what kind of Tweek was behind it.

The blonde was still in the same position he left him. Back to the door and holding his knees. Craig removed his outer layer of clothing that was stained with blood and changed his "nice" jeans for a pair of ratty ones. Tweek still didn't move. Craig noticed there were little droplets of blood surrounding the blonde that was in fact covered. His ashy blonde locks were matted to places on his head with dark crusted spots of red while his clothes were almost completely stained. He needed to get those clothes out of the wheel house before he stained any more shit. Tweek was still stationary, not even trembling; so Craig kneeled a little before saying, "Give me your dirty clothes." When the blonde didn't move he reached out and touched his shoulder; when his fingers made contact Tweek's bony hand shot up and grabbed Craig's leaving Craig frozen. His grip was tight and desperate, trembling unlike before. He remained that way for a few moments before Tweek's strangled voice cut through the atmosphere.

"Y-you're so cold." Craig didn't move, yes he was cold, but before he could even answer Tweek spoke again. "Y-you've b-been washing the d-deck haven't you?" He swallowed a tic "I'm s-s-so s-sorry…I should have b-b-been cleaning it." Tweek's hand loosened and slumped back down to hold his knees. Craig let his hand fall too, but he remained adamant about getting the clothes out of the wheel house.

"It's ok. Just give me your dirty clothes, you're getting blood everywhere." Craig said impatiently. This time Tweek obeyed and peeled off the crusted clothing, there wasn't anything on him that wasn't dirty, so with his back still to Craig he sat awkwardly naked, shivering from the cold. Craig grabbed a blanket and threw it over his shoulders. "You can borrow some of my clothes while yours are drying; I have an extra shirt under the desk along with some pants." On his way out of the door he grabbed the washboard and went to the front of the deck to wash the blood stained clothing.

Oddly, he didn't mind doing laundry. It was something he grew up doing on his own, so he didn't mind it. Scratch that, he _enjoyed_ doing laundry, it was one of his quirks that people didn't really know about him. But he preferred it that way.

He scrubbed the clothes along the ridges of the washboard slowly but surely getting rid of the remnants of last night. He had to empty the bucket three or four times while washing Tweek's clothes, there was an impressive amount of blood in the fibers, he actually struggled to get the stains out, but because they were fairly fresh and the water was cold, he was able to get out most of it. His hands grew numb from the ice cold water mixed with the frigid air. He could tell that winter was on its way, it was only a matter of time before the first snow came.

As he finished up the laundry, he rigged a line to hang them up on; hopefully the weather wouldn't dampen the drying time too severely. He suppressed a shiver as he dumped the dirty water and brought up another to bring back in the wheel house. The wheelhouse was a little warmer than the outside, but it was still chilly nonetheless. Tweek changed his position; he was now facing the door with his back resting on the bench, clothed in Craig's extra garments. There was a sullen expression that ached the blonde's features, something he hadn't seen before. Craig's eyes scanned over his face finding smears and spots of dried blood all over him. He heaved the water over closer to Tweek and sat cross legged in front of him. The Captain reached under the deck finding a rag which he dipped in the cold water. He squeezed out the excess and reached over to Tweek's face, wiping off some of the blood from his cheek. He flinched as first, probably due to the coldness of the water, but even if Craig tried there would be no way of efficiently warming up the water. Tweek eyes darted up to meet Craig's and immediately shot back down at the floor. No words were spoken, none needed to be.

Tweek sat as Craig cleaned the mess from his hair, his face, and his hands. He was being much gentler than his own hands would have suggested, his calloused fingers covered by the thin cloth gliding over Tweek's fragile complexion. Tweek frowned and pulled away from the rag in Craig's hand.

"You d-d-don't have to do this. I'm an adult." Craig said nothing, he just returned to what he was doing before Tweek rudely interrupted him. He didn't care what Tweek had to say, he wasn't going to allow his dirty face to get anywhere else in the wheelhouse. Tweek huffed a little but didn't move after that. Craig took one of his hands by the wrist and scrubbed the red out the tiny grooves that ran across his palms. He noticed Tweek's hands had lots of faint scars on his finger and around his nails, probably from scratching and picking at them, but he never noticed them until now. Craig wondered if he had other scars.

When he felt satisfied with the cleanliness of Tweek's hand, he moved onto the other one, picking it up by his wrist and scrubbing out the crusted blood. Tweek's head hung lowly unable to look Craig in the eyes again. Craig remarked that the blonde had much nicer hands than himself, although perhaps he was a bit biased, considering he was aware of everything that his own hands had been through; And now he wasn't so sure he knew everything Tweek's hands had done. Craig gently dipped the dirty cloth back into the water, squeezing it and allowing the crimson to stain the water little by little. He returned to cleaning Tweek's hand, he may have not minded before, but now he was eager to clean the blonde up and make him like shiny new.

Craig finished up his hand and noticed that the way Tweek's head hung he could see blood on the back of his head dripping down to his back. He didn't want blood on his clean shirt. "Turn around." He ordered quietly. He almost thought he heard Tweek scoff at him, but the blonde obeyed and turned his back to him. At this angle he saw that he was correct at spotting the hiding blood stains. First he scrubbed the matted spot out of the ashy strands. Then he swiped up the remainder on his neck, the most he could because he needed to get under the shirt. Without asking he pulled off the blanket covering Tweek's back and shoved it in front of the blonde and pulled up the edge of the shirt to reveal Tweek's back. Ha, right again. There were droplets of red that had traveled down his spine, dried, but if he had lain down the mess would have gotten on the inside of the shirt. As he washed away the remnants, he noticed something else he hadn't seen before. The growing brightness outside revealed hundreds of raised lines over the blonde's bony back. Had anyone else noticed them? It was strange he didn't see these before. They were all somewhat vertical, only a few strayed elsewhere, and they looked like something precise had opened the flesh by only a few millimeters. Craig was stupefied by the sheer number of them. He wasn't exactly an observant person, but now that he was focused on the task in front of him it was like viewing Tweek for the first time. No where else did he have these marks, and he found himself reaching out to touch them. Tweek's body tensed furiously when his fingertip, which felt nothing like the rag, lightly pressed against the raised flesh and traced the length going downward.

"W-what are you doing?" the blonde stuttered, his body quivering. Craig was unsure if this was from the cold or the contact.

"What happened to you?" He meant it as a general statement; he normally didn't feel compelled to ask such questions, but this time the anxiousness burned the back of his mind. He wanted to know what made Tweek turn into the stranger from last night; he wanted to know where the scars came from. There was too much about Tweek he didn't know and that he really desired to know. He'd never felt so driven in his life.

Tweek was hesitant, his body quaking under the pressure. Craig's fingers still hadn't left his skin. His nerves were beyond shot, and his mind was racing with memories he didn't care to remember but he finally struggled out words.

"I….I've k-k-k-killed people, Craig. Lot's of—ngh—people…" The blonde's hands became ensnared in his hair, tugging roughly. Craig could tell he was resisting; he knew it couldn't be easy telling someone something so deeply personal and tragic. Craig understood the feeling all too well. He retracted his hand and let his shirt fall back over the scarred flesh.

"I-I didn't want to—ngh. I was f-f-forced to. It started out as b-being entertainment….th-those sicks bastards thought—ngh—it'd be funny t-to watch the twitchy kid off people. I still r-remember the first time…They grabbed—ngh—my wrists from b-behind and pointed the gun r-right against this poor girl-s forehead. NGH…I didn't even kn-know the girl, a-and she begged me for her l-life." Tweek's shoulder's shook, Craig could tell he was crying.

"The r-rebels didn't care, they u-used people as food….When th-their fingers crushed mine onto the trigger a-and squeezed—NGH—I wanted to c-close my eyes but it was t-too late. HNGH—I watched s-someone's life get sucked away i-in less th-than a second. F-fuck, man, and it wasn't th-the last time." His stutter was getting worse the more upset he became. Craig felt his gut constrict into knots, he knew entirely too well what it was like to watch the life leave someone's eyes.

"D-do you know w-what it's like b-being forced to—ngh—eat human flesh?" Tweek didn't wait for an answer. "I threw it up th-the first time, b-b-but they made me eat my puke b-b-because they said I wasted th-their food. It was the most vile thing I'd ever eaten, s-s-sometimes I can still smell the skin—ngh—burning in th-the fire. F-f-fuck. B-but the worst was when they'd give me b-blunt object—ngh—and told m-me to clobber someone t-to death. Have you ever f-felt someone's bones break under—hngh—their skin? I-it's the most s-sickening sound in the world, hearing—ngh—their bones snap and h-hearing them cry. I h-hated it. I hated m-myself. Jesus. When ever I w-was forced to do something…l-like k-k-kill someone I'd cut myself, o-or whip myself. T-that's where all the-marks came f-from. I-I was s-s-so disgusted with m-myself—ngh—that I f-felt I deserved all the p-pain. I-It could never measure up t-to the amount of pain I've put p-people through. B-but I couldn't s-stand the pain inside…so I h-hurt myself on the outside—ngh—trying to make it f-feel better.

"A-after they toyed with t-this one woman, letting h-her believe they'd let her g-go after they…ngh—raped her. She had t-turned around when t-they told me t-to break her l-legs. They tortured h-h-her in ways I'd n-n-never thought imaginable—NGH—before making m-m-me slit her throat. FUCK! Watching t-the hope in h-her eyes, knowing that sh-she'd be backstabbed was horrifying. I-I watched the last glimmer of h-hope in her eyes dwindle into nothing a-as the life p-p-p-poured out of her neck. I-it was t-the last straw. And th-that night I killed th-them all in their sleep. I-I don't know what took m-me so long to g-go through with it, I-I had contemplated it f-for a while b-but t-there was something about that woman's d-death that struck the last chord a-and I snapped. I cut their throats and I ran. I vowed t-to never get caught again b-by the rebels, b-but I g-got swept out to sea d-during a storm, a w-wave came crashing on shore a-and dragged me under. Th-thankfully I was able to grab a piece o-of driftwood a-and not drown.

"That's when y-you guys p-pulled me to y-your boat….I w-was so scared at first…b-but you guys didn't look like rebels, y-you were like m-my age. I f-felt less afraid b-because rebels are normally older, l-like in their or 40's… I-I'm so sorry… I-I'm so sorry that I-I'm such a horrible person, I should have—ngh—told you."

Craig wasn't sure what to say, or do for that matter. He didn't know if he should thank him or apologize or….'comfort' him. Craig wanted to know so badly, but now that he knew, he didn't know what to do about it. So he did what he thought would help. Something his mother did to him when he was little, and it always made him feel better. The Captain didn't know if it would have the same effect in this type of distress but it was worth a shot.

Without saying a word Craig inched forward on the floor and raised his arms awkwardly, encircling the trembling blonde. Tweek stopped shaking for a moment, allowing Craig to tighten him arms, in what some would describe as a hug. Craig hadn't done this since his family was killed, he was uncertain and unpracticed, but it didn't take long for Tweek to respond. The blonde turned around rapidly grabbing at the back of his shirt in a desperate way; allowing the sobs that he was suppressing to cascade out like a broken dam. He cried in an ugly way, letting every choked up emotion escape his throat as he slammed his head into the Captain's sternum. Craig was then the one who was frozen; he hadn't expected Tweek to reciprocate his gesture. But instead of trying to get the blonde off him, he settled his arms back around the sobbing mess and firmly held his body close. He allowed Tweek to crumble before him; perhaps this was what Tweek needed all those years. Maybe he just needed a shoulder to cry on.

Craig lifted one of his hands to gently pat the tousled blonde mane that was tickling his neck, he made very effort to try and be as soothing as he possibly could; even if that meant acting like a statue and robotically patting his head. It was the best Craig could muster, it was all he knew. If Tweek needed a shoulder to cry on then that's what he could give him. He felt the front of his shirt become soaked with the amount of tears and snot that Tweek's was pouring on him, but he didn't mind. It made part of Craig feel good, he knew how the blonde felt; he knew what it was like watching people die in front of you. It made him feel good that he could provide some level of comfort that he never had.

The sensation of his body being so near made his heart pound, perhaps it was the intimacy, no one had shared something so personal with him before and then cried on his shoulder. Craig could honestly say that he didn't mind sharing such an intimate moment with Tweek. Craig couldn't put his finger on why he cared so much about the blonde's life. He hadn't taken an interest in anyone's life after the disaster, really. So it baffled him as to how this oddball blonde could have wormed his way into his favor.

As the time passed Tweek's sobs grew lighter and his tears stopped flowing. The blonde was exhausted, as was Craig. They were the only crew members who hadn't gotten any sleep that night and as the early morning dawned on them Tweek's body started to shut down. Craig noticed the blonde's breathing had slowed and he was letting little snores with each passing breath; the mere fact that he was sleeping made Craig's mind slip into the unconscious realm. Craig leaned their bodies against the adjacent cabinets and he let his heavy lids fall.

For whatever reason Craig began to dream. He was in the middle of eating breakfast with his family. He felt happiness flood his body. There was a warm smile on his mother's face as she hovered around the fridge looking for some blueberries to put in the pancakes that were bubbling on the griddle. The smell made his mouth water, it had been ages since he had last had pancakes.

His mother's blonde hair hung over her shoulders like golden silk strands, she always took care of herself. Her hair was naturally dark, but she bleached it regularly. It made her face glow along with her red lipstick that she applied everyday, even to go to the grocery store. She was a gorgeous woman, and he missed her lovely smile.

His father was sitting at the head of the table reading the news paper. He was a stark contrast to his mother; they were high school sweethearts, she was the popular girl, and he was the quarterback for the football team. His ginger hair had faded with age, along with a growing bald area on the top of his head. He was a fairly large man with thick limbs and hands, which were covered with light hair. His father and mother would yell quite a bit, enough to sound like they would murder each other. But it's just the type of people they were, they were loud and angry but Craig was used to it.

His little sister Ruby who was around 6 in this dream was sitting at the table cutting her pancakes with a fork and knife all by herself. She was as vibrant as her fiery red hair, and very much like Craig personality wise. When she caught him staring she raised her middle finger proudly in the air, a very practiced movement. He smirked and raised his back, loving every second. They didn't get along well at her age in this vision, but Craig couldn't help but relish the moment of this perfect dream.

Unlike ones he'd had in the past, this dream didn't turn bad. It stayed a while before the blackness engulfed his mind satisfied with peaceful memories.

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><p><strong>AN: Hey there everyone! Happy Holidays!<strong>

**What did you think of this chapter? Did it illuminate more of Tweek's past? What is your opinion of it? What did you think of the ending? Was it suitable?**

**I couldn't have done this without the encouragement and help of my lovely reviewers :xSucksToYourAss-marx, ValsWinter , hidan the jashin worshiper, ChocolateMilkLOL, scarlettshazam, and hootpoop12.**

**Thank you to the people who have stayed with me since the beginning! I truly value your opinions! And thank you to the new people who have hopped aboard! I hope you continue to read and review and most of all ENJOY! I wish you all the best of Holidays, what ever you may celebrate! **


	8. Acceptance

**Chapter 8: Acceptance**

**Warning: May contain violent content that could be considered sensitive to some viewers including rape and infanticide, please read at your own discretion.**

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><p>Tweek awoke gently, allowing his eyes to flutter open. They felt raw and swollen along with the dried up remains of his tears crusted around his eyes. He went to rub them but quickly realized that his arms were trapped. He wasn't sure why he felt so tucked in or why he was sleeping sitting up, laying against…oh…<em>oh<em>…He was still attached to Craig. This made his heart swell up and fill his ribcage, beating abnormally quick. His hands were wrapped around the Captain's torso and entangled in his shirt, while his head was comfortably tucked against Craig's firm sternum, the shirt still damp from his crying. Tweek felt an arm wrapped around with a hand pressed to his back, only lightly, while the other hand was resting in the crook of his neck. The close proximity almost made him want to jerk violently to get some space, but he felt oddly at peace…safe, even.

He remembered telling Craig about his time with the rebels, and all the horrible things he'd done. Just thinking about it now made him sick to his stomach, but he remembered how Craig reacted. He didn't condemn him, he didn't tell him to leave, he didn't say anything; he just…hugged him. It was all of the confirmation Tweek needed to completely break down, he didn't care how timid the Captain seemed about it, he knew a hug when one was given. And for those few moments, Tweek forgot about his aversion to touching and being close. He forgot about trivial worries and fears and was completely focused on letting loose everything in him that had been bottled to the point of bursting. He didn't feel judged or demonized, and it was everything Tweek needed in that moment, he felt…understood.

Tweek swallowed the lump growing in his throat and dared to peer upward at Craig's face. He was fairly certain that the Captain was sleeping, due to his slow heartbeat and even breathing. But he was terrified of being caught in his piercing gaze that seemed to want to swallow him whole. He tightened his grip on Craig's shirt before slowly easing his face up to look at the callous-…But when his face came into view it was not the Craig he normally saw while awake. This Craig had his head relaxed against the cabinet, mouth slightly parted. His eyes were rested and anything but hard and piercing. He noticed his full brows were not in a scowl, or even blank, they were loose and carefree.

It was as if Craig became an entirely new person right before his eyes. Tweek noticed how his olive skin seemed only a shade lighter, and his cheeks and nose were powdered with red from the chilly air. His hat was slipping off the back his head, revealing more of his ebony hair that peeked out messily from the rim of the blue chullo hat. Tweek inhaled deeply through his nose, allowing Craig's rustic scent to flood his senses. It was a smell he couldn't even describe, but it fit Craig perfectly.

Tweek closed his eyes briefly, and assessed the situation. Did he get up and pretend it never happened? Did he stay and try to sleep some more (He definitely could)? Or what? What was he supposed to do after? It wasn't like he could go on with daily routine as if nothing had happened the night before. He started to feel anxious as he thought about how the crew would look at him differently. What was he supposed to say? When he opened his eyes again he was staring into Craig's deep blue eyes. Utterly shocked, he froze, eyes unable to look away. But as he stared longer into Craig's eyes he noticed that there was something different. It was like sleeping Craig had morphed into awake Craig, with the same soft expression on his face. His eyes looked heavy and not sharp, and his blue irises did not want to eat Tweek up.

"Morning to you too," Craig said, his voice hoarse from only just waking. There was a nice inflection weaved through his words, very strange. He relaxed a moment, loosening his grip on the back of Craig's shirt.

"Um…Morning," He instantly regretted the uncertainty his voice projected. Just as Tweek was an entirely different person the night before, this was a brand new Craig he'd never seen. But his time with the new Craig was cut off abruptly when he let his arms fall and he scooted away from the blonde, making Tweek miss the warmth their bodies had produced together. He was back to his apathetic self, blank expression and eyes so deep that they made Tweek uncomfortable. Tweek sat awkwardly without the support of Craig's frame, he felt naked without the comfort that he was providing.

There were a few more tense moments before Tweek felt the urge to apologize.

"I'm s-sorry."

Craig stared back him, and looked as though he hadn't heard him.

"No one was hurt. Everything is fine," he stated matter-of-factly. But Tweek wasn't so sure everything was alright, even between the two of them.

"I'm still sorry…and f-for earlier…" Tweek mentioned, referring to his melt down. Embarrassment flooded through his veins. He didn't like how awkward this conversation was.

Craig nodded, "Don't worry about it." Tweek nodded back in acknowledgment. There was still an uncomfortable tension in the air, and Tweek swore he could cut it with a knife it was so thick. But Craig robotically got up and left the wheelhouse, leaving Tweek to stew in his embarrassment. He felt ashamed for his actions, regardless of what Craig said. For both the bloody mess he made and for laying down his feelings onto Craig. But he couldn't deny that he didn't mind being so close, and he couldn't recall the last time he had felt so secure and comfortable. Perhaps that was where the most embarrassment was coming from. Tweek just couldn't help but feel the fluttery feeling that he experienced when he felt how close and warm Craig was. He wiped his cheeks to get rid of the dried tears.

He wasn't stupid, and he knew how different Craig was when they weren't alone. The Captain had a tendency to be uncaring towards almost everyone. He barely spoke, and if he did it was only a few words. He knew how out of character it was for him when he was alone Tweek. But the blonde enjoyed his time with the Captain, and he liked to think that Craig enjoyed it too. There couldn't be any other explanation, could there? It was in the way he took care of him. Craig had even washed him, for Christ's sake.

He'd like to think that Craig was fond of him, but there was absolutely no reason why he would.

Tweek frowned. He was just the weird twitchy guy - why would anyone want be around him? Craig must have felt sorry for him. Or maybe he just wanted to stay on his good side because he thought that Tweek would snap and kill everyone. He couldn't blame Craig for feeling that way. Tweek was a monster, after all.

Even after thinking about all of those terrible things, he still got the tingles from thinking about how close he and Craig were. Tweek wondered if those feelings were even real; but then again, he couldn't even comprehend how they could be fake. There was an essence of reality that permeated each and every feeling he felt with Craig. He knew that Craig was probably incapable of faking such things anyway. Even Clyde acknowledged the behavior as genuine. Odd, but nonetheless genuine.

There was a glimmer of hope in Tweek that maybe, just maybe, Craig was as fond of him as he was of Craig.

As soon as Craig left the wheelhouse the nagging in his chest began to stir with a hunger he couldn't explain. It tempted him to go back and sit with Tweek, even if they were to just going to stare at nothing. But he restrained himself. It seemed unnecessary, irrational even, to go back and just sit. And how would he deal with what he felt once he went back in?

He left because there was something much stronger than the nagging that was troubling him. If he thought he didn't understand the nagging, then he was completely in the dark with the new feelings that rushed within him. They were so strong that they sent his head reeling with bubbly and…happy feelings. It was such an odd combination that he just couldn't deal with it. He had to leave.

When he felt Tweek move slightly against his chest it was like electricity was jolting up his entire body, sending his gut into spirals. He'd never felt this way, _never_. It was so foreign and it overwhelmed him. Usually, he would be able to find a way to suppress it and cope. But not this one - it seemed to take hold and stubbornly refused to go away.

It was frustrating how difficult these feelings were. Craig almost had the urge to cut open his torso and pull out the squirmy emotions, just so they wouldn't bug him anymore.

Just then, Clyde opened the main cabin door, looking just as sleepy as Craig. He had only gotten a few hours of rest. Clyde rubbed his tired eyes and squinted at the Captain.

"Hey man, how are you even awake?" he asked before taking a huge yawn. Craig raised an eyebrow.

"You should ask yourself that question," remarked Craig.

To that, Clyde opened his eyes more and really looked at him, "You okay? You seem different. Is everything alright from last night?"

Craig couldn't fool Clyde, not even once, that damn perceptive bastard. Craig closed his eyes and walked over to Clyde's end of the ship taking a seat against the bow.

Clyde sauntered over and took the seat next to him, "Now, I'm really worried" he said jokingly. "What's up?"

Normally Craig would have ignored his pestering, but maybe talking to Clyde would help him understand what he was experiencing. They used to talk fairly regularly back in the day, but Craig found himself becoming less and less inclined to talk as the years progressed. Fuck it. He'll just blurt out was he's thinking.

"I feel funny," Craig said.

The brunette waited a moment, and when he realized that Craig wasn't going to add anything he responded with,

"Okay…" he scratched his head - this was completely out of the norm, "About last night? Because I think we all feel a bit funny after last night, man."

Craig shrugged.

"About Tweek."

"Uh-huh. What about Tweek? The part where he killed seven people? Or what?" Craig scowled at him. He didn't like Clyde repeatedly bringing up the killings. It was what it was and they couldn't change it. Would they have changed it anyway? Craig leaned more towards 'no.'

"He makes me feel funny," explained Craig.

Clyde gave him the blankest stare that Craig thought he had ever seen plastered on the brunette's face.

"Now I _know_ there's something wrong. I don't think I remember the last time you had a conversation with me. But you still aren't telling me what's up," Clyde said.

Craig felt his brows furrow, it couldn't be that difficult to understand could it? Tweek made him feel funny, why was that?

"He cried on me, and we fell asleep. Now I feel funny."

Clyde's face kept increasing by various degrees of 'what the fuck has gotten into you.'

"He cried on you, you fell asleep, and now you feel _funny_…Can you define _funny_ for me?" asked Clyde.

Craig was just about to throw his hands up and quit. He didn't think he could stifle his patience any longer, "Like, tingly worms in my stomach." From the look on Clyde's face, Craig thought Clyde's jaw would unhinge itself and plop on the deck.

"You mean like, butterflies?"

Craig shrugged.

"So you liked it?"

Craig shrugged again. He guessed that he could say that he enjoyed it.

"So you…you like him?" The brunette thought the implication stood on its own.

The Captain didn't respond right away. He actually took Clyde's question into consideration. He did notice that he did things that were…unusual for him, like, well, talking for one. Then there was the coffee, and after the attack, he even cleaned Tweek up. And then there was that awful nagging that he felt around Tweek. God, it was like the obnoxious buzzing from a mosquito that hovered around your ear. But he had no clue what that meant. Maybe Clyde had it right. Maybe Craig did like Tweek.

"I guess," the Captain stated. Had he ever really liked anyone before? Well, he could tolerate Clyde, and he did sort of like him. But it was completely different with Tweek. Like, on another wavelength entirely.

"I'd never thought I'd see the day…" the brunette said to himself, interrupting Craig's thoughts.

"Why?" Craig asked dryly.

Clyde raised his eyebrows incredulously.

"Really? Because the last time I checked you didn't like _anyone_. But it all makes sense now! I've never seen you like this with someone, like, I've never seen you so… flustered."

It was Craig's turn to give him a look.

"I'm _flustered?_" the Captain asked, his voice laced with sarcasm. Although he genuinely wanted to know what he should label these weird ass emotions.

"Well, yeah. I mean, come on…Like, do you just like him, or do you _like _him?" Clyde beckoned with his big brown eyes.

Craig just stared blankly at him.

"What's the difference?"

Clyde smacked his forehead.

"Puhleeeeeaze, tell me you've had a crush before," Clyde asked, peeking through the fingers of his hand. Craig shook his head. He didn't recall feeling anything like that in his childhood, not that he hadn't heard of a crush before. Clyde continued, "Oh dear god. You can't be serious. Do you just like him, or do you, you know…like him, _romantically_?" Clyde had a hard time saying the last word, as if it were some greasy slug that slipped out of his mouth.

But that got Craig thinking. He guessed he was fond of Tweek, there was no way around that – but it made him wonder.

"If you get butterflies around him, I'd say that you _like _him like him. Just sayin' dude," Clyde explained nonchalantly, but when he looked back over at Craig he quickly added, "Not that there's anything wrong with that, man! I was just, you know, putting it into perspective for you."

The gears in the Captain's head were certainly spinning – it was a lot of new information for him to process. Was that what those nagging feelings were indicating? Is that why he felt his heart speed up when Tweek was close? He would have to consider Clyde's suggestion further. He still didn't know how he would handle the situation, even if it did have a label.

"So…Why was Tweek crying in the first place?" Clyde asked, as if the answer were not obvious.

There was also that. He didn't want the crew to make Tweek more uncomfortable than he already was. So Craig gave the brunette the short version of what Tweek had told him about his past. He told him about how he was forced to do those things and how he escaped. Perhaps if Clyde helped the rest of the crew understand his situation, they would be more accepting of Tweek.

Craig knew that there was risk involved, but he felt that the benefits outweighed the risk in this situation, and that Tweek's defensive skills made him a useful asset to their crew.

"That's…heavy dude. I didn't expect that, but I think you're right. He's never been violent before, but now it makes sense. Shit," Clyde's face turned sullen as he thought about it.

They both knew the crew would be up soon. Craig figured because they had gotten some supplies from the attacker's boats that they'd cast out some lobster crates and see how they'd do in these open waters. After last night, Craig thought the crew could use a well-deserved break.

Clyde and Craig both travelled down into the storage area of the ship, which was beyond a door inside the main cabin. They grabbed as many of the crates as they could that still fit through the narrow doorway. It didn't take long for the rest of the crew to get up from the racket, though there was a recognizable slowness in their movements; everyone was sluggish and still tired from having less than satisfactory sleep.

They all seemed to pause when they entered the deck area, as if the scene from the night before was still strewn about. Glances were exchanged among them. They were unsure of what to do or say. It was hard to swallow the reality of the previous night, and none of them knew where to start. Thankfully Clyde stepped in.

"Hey ladies and gents, how are we feeling?" the brunette asked. There were halfhearted shrugs and nods. "I know everybody is a little worried about last night, so I just wanted to fill you all in." Clyde paused, and then relayed everything Craig had told him about Tweek's prior life. There were some pretty shocked looks, although one person still didn't seem impressed.

"Yeah? And what of it?" Eric stated rudely, making heads turn to him.

Clyde glowered at him.

"He's staying," The brunette said putting his foot down. "It has been my understanding that there are risks, but no one was hurt last night! That counts for something!"

Eric crossed his arms, and gave everyone a nasty glare. "Risks? Are you kidding me? What happens if he snaps while we're all sleeping slits _our_throats too? I knew that guy was nothing but trouble."

"Those were different circumstances! Things are not like they were when he was captured!" Clyde retorted, getting increasingly more frustrated. But Eric didn't back down.

"You listen to _me_. If you think having a psychotic killer aboard is a _good_idea, then I'm not so sure that this ship is under the right leadership," This time Eric gave Craig and Clyde scowls. His words were like cyanide penetrating the atmosphere, they were bitter and deadly. It hadn't been the first time Eric challenged leadership aboard, but in the past it was over stupid shit; Clyde was unsure if he had any supporters over this matter.

"No. You listen to _me,_asshole. If Tweek hadn't been here last night, there is a good chance some of us could be fucking dead right now. That 'psychotic killer' in there," Clyde mentioned, pointing to the wheel house, "saved our asses without even being asked. Not to fucking mention he didn't turn on any one of us."

Craig gave the brunette an encouraging nod; he knew he could count on Clyde to get the job done. Craig was thankful that he had such a supportive friend. Yeah, he was sure that Clyde had earned his title as friend, and then some.

"He's right," Token added, "Things could have been a lot worse than they were, and if you ask me, I think we could use the most defense we can get, considering that we're going to have a baby on board soon." There were a few concerned looks but it seemed as though more people were hopping on board.

Kyle stepped forward.

"I think Tweek's a good guy, and there's no reason we should treat him any differently. He deserves the same respect as any one of us," the redhead explained. Stan, Wendy, and Bebe nodded in agreement with Kyle. Craig was satisfied with the enthusiasm of the crew –maybe now would be a good time to get Tweek.

Craig traipsed over to the wheelhouse door, opening it slightly ajar to see inside. Tweek was looking up at him, eyes wide as could be, while fiddling with his shirt sleeve. The Captain made a 'come here' gesture with his finger, inviting Tweek on deck. The blonde audibly swallowed and started gnawing on his lower lip. Craig could tell that being displayed in front of everybody made him nervous. It made that God awful nagging strike back inside him full force. With the new ideas that Clyde had presented to him, it made a lump form in his throat. Good thing he didn't plan on talking.

The blonde shakily got to his feet, avoiding eye contact with Craig, and then stumbled out onto the deck with everyone's eyes on him. Craig noticed that Tweek was staring at various spots on the deck, averting his eyes from anyone else.

Bebe was the first to step forward and stand in front Tweek who was the same height as her. She tenderly reached out and touched his shoulder before asking, "Is it alright if I hug you sweetie?"

Tweek's head inched up slightly, and he shrugged, allowing the contact.

Tweek was surprised at how close she embraced him. She squeezed him tight enough to stop his breathing and then loosened, giving him a quiet "Thank you," in the crook of his neck. The scrawny blonde didn't hug her back; he didn't think he could if he tried because his arms were securely tucked to his chest. Combined with her large breasts and strong arms, Tweek was effectively cradled against Bebe, while she muttered more "thank yous" to him.

It was much different than Craig's hug, perhaps it was the fact that Bebe was more practiced in hugging than Craig. Regardless, there was something different about it.

He liked Craig's hug better.

But he accepted the thanks, it was much better than he was expecting – which would have been fire and pitchforks. When Bebe let go, he timidly glanced up at the people on the deck. It made him squirmy and uncomfortable with so many eyes on him, and he couldn't help but feel like they were judging him, even if only a little. He suppressed the urge to cry and sunk down to his haunches, and then to his bottom.

"If it's alright with you Tweek, I think they'd like to hear about your experiences, and maybe ask some questions," Clyde said nudging at the sitting blonde.

Tweek nervously scratched at his hands trying to be discreet. He didn't want to bring up anything else.

He didn't want to remember. But he thought that maybe they deserved to know a bit more, especially after the massacre on deck last night. Tweek dipped his head in a nodding gesture, cuing everyone to take a seat.

It was making Tweek's heart race a billion miles a minute, he had really awful anxiety when it came to being the center of attention. He also had nothing that could soothe any of his fears, damn pills. If there was a time he wished he had any, now would be one of those times.

"What d-d-d-did you w-want to kn-know?" the blonde said shakily. He noticed that Craig had sat very near him on his left flank. He kind of wished that right now he could hide from everyone's eyes buried in Craig's chest again.

But that was just wishful thinking.

"Where did you learn to do…that," Stan asked referring to his skills as a killer. The bold question made Tweek even more nervous.

"I…Um…NGH—it was w-what the r-r-rebels showed me h-how to—NGH—do when th-they wanted me to…K-k-kill someone…" The blonde really wanted to hide right now; the stares and the eyes only burned more holes in his body making his skin crawl. He didn't like this. He didn't like it all, being interrogated. But he knew he had to and it killed him inside.

"You were on the inside, what was it like in a rebel camp? I mean, none of us to our knowledge have been captured and came out alive. I was just wondering why they would have…sorry if this sounds insensitive, but kept you alive?" Kyle asked delicately. He could read Tweek's body language fairly well, and he didn't want to cause any more stress than need be.

"Honestly…A-at first I think they—ngh—kept me out of p-pity. And th-then when th-they found out how f-f-funny it was to watch…m-m-me…HNGG….K-k-k-kill people, they just k-kept me f-for the hell of it….

"It was l-like a n-nightmare. I f-fucking hated it. Th-they'd capture…w-women and k-keep them as…NGH—s-s-sex slaves….F-fuck man. Th-the first time, she'd c-cry and scream, but i-it was like all of th-the life was j-just sucked out of them after th-the next few t-times. Th-they were like zombies m-man. Th-they were t-tied together l-like animals…W-when th-they got pregnant…If th-the baby was t-t-too loud, they'd…" Tweek had to pause, and compose himself in order to say the next sentence, "they'd g-g-grab the babies b-by the legs and…hit th-them against w-w-walls or t-t-trees un-t-t-t-til they'd st-stop crying…"

At this point Tweek couldn't hold back any tears and they leaked from his already sore eyes.

"I-I-I-I kn-knew a few k-kids that had s-survived th-the baby stage. A-and other r-recruits t-t-to increase th-their numbers. Th-they w-were beaten, m-more than I was. It w-was like th-they were t-trying to c-create the perfect soldiers… Th-they thought it was th-the only w-way to survive…"

There was tense pause among the crew, some with queasy looks and others with anger. Tweek's mercurial mood had shifted to everyone else and it looked as though people were now not as eager to understand Tweek's past.

"Thanks for the sob story, but how do we know that you won't do any of that to _us?_" several angry faces turned to glare at one Eric who had decided to open his fucking mouth.

Tweek's eyes went larger than saucers.

"I-I'd n-n-never do that t-t-to you! I-I really l-like you guys! I-It's just…th-the rebels, I d-d-don't think I couldn't g-go back to th-that life!" Tweek began to ramble trying to defend himself.

"You're a sonofabitch Eric. D'you hear yourself when you talk?" Kenny growled at Eric who raised his hands in defense.

"Whoa, I'm the one trying to save us all from the psycho who was trained by baby killers. Shouldn't that upset you Bebe, since you know, you're having a baby 'n all?" The fatass said calmly.

Bebe's face went ten shades of red.

"YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! IT IS NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS, YOU-"

"HEY! Don't be mad at ME! be mad at the guy who watched babies die in front of his eyes. You can't tell me he didn't learn that too!" the fatass retorted.

Then, as soon as Eric gave a smart ass grin, it was wiped clean off of his face with a punch that he didn't see coming.

But it wasn't Kenny, it wasn't Kyle…

It was Craig who had gotten up and pounded his fist into Eric's face harder than he thought he could manage. He felt Eric's face crack hard against his knuckles and it sent him reeling across the deck, starry eyed and blank.

The crew all snapped their necks up to look at Craig, who was adjusting the bones in his wrist. As if the past twenty four hours hadn't revealed enough surprises.

"Dude, Craig, that was pretty sick." Clyde said with a smirk on his face that he couldn't restrain.

As soon as the shock wore off, Eric sat up, wide eyed and starting crying rather loudly and yelling, "YOU FUCKING DICK! YOU BROKE MY FACE!" Butters was at his side tending to the blood flow that gushed from his nose. Craig strolled back over to where he was sitting, eyes all on him. Eric shoved Butters away with a, "Fuck off Butters!" and stormed off into the main cabin, Butters in tow.

Tweek gaped at the Captain, who nonchalantly sat back down as if he expected the rest of the day to go on as normal. Craig gave them all stares of 'what?' before flipping them all the bird.

"Dude, what the fuck is going on lately?" Stan asked, waving his hands up the air.

Like their thoughts were interconnected, Tweek and Craig met eyes. It was as if they wondered the same thing about each other: "What is up with us?"

* * *

><p><strong>Well, what did you think? What do you think will happen next? :D Questions and comments are highly encouraged.<strong>

**I couldn't have done this without the help of my lovely Beta scarlettshazam, she is fucking awesome, and you should go read her fics because they are spectacular! One of the best writers I know.**

**I also wouldn't be where I am in this fic if it hadn't been for my amazing reviewers!: 2shoes, ChocolateMilkLOL, xSucksToYourAss-marx, cupcakeattack, Amberr-chan, hootpoop12, and of course scarlettshazam 3**

**Thank you all so much and I hope you have a happy new year and continue reading!**


	9. Frozen

**Chapter 9: Frozen**

* * *

><p>The next week was especially brutal due to the cold. Winter was finally setting in and nothing could stop the below zero temperatures that ravaged the boat at night. It was the time of year where everyone wore their clothes to bed, and still would shiver awake. It also made getting food a larger priority than it was before. They needed to be able to survive through the winter on their stock if they were trapped in ice.<p>

It was tough, making sure that the deck remained as ice-free as possible. They had to chip away at it so it didn't build up and make the vessel lopsided in weight.

Craig had guided them farther north in the hope of losing any rebels that may have been with the others and made due with the outlying islands. Times were a bit rougher, but the moral was as back to normal as it was going to be.

Eric was angry most of the time, but he didn't bother speaking out. The rest of the crew carried on as usual after Tweek's rampage, trying their best to forget the whole ordeal.

Which Tweek was totally fine with. He'd rather not be singled out for any reason.

Kenny had spoken to Craig about maybe searching for a woodstove that they could install in the main cabin. A good old cast-iron one would do the trick, but it would also involve laying done stone or brick for it the stove to rest on. As well as cutting out a hole in the roof for a chimney, which they would have to make themselves.

But there was nothing Craig could do about it. Even if they found a stove, not only would it be heavy, but the work it would require wouldn't even securely fasten it to the floor. If the ship rocked enough, which it would, it would tip the stove over and potentially become a fire hazard. Not to mention there wasn't any room to really put it. He knew Kenny was concerned about the cold this year, which was a pretty spot-on observation, but they would just have to ride it out.

Craig was wary of how the weather had turned this year. The bitter cold swept over the northeast like a blanket, and he hoped that this wasn't an omen as to how the rest of the season would prevail.

For the past several nights Tweek and Craig didn't speak. Tweek would try, but the Captain ultimately shut down after a few words.

It sort of irked Tweek, considering that it used to be a nightly routine for them. But his coldness towards the blonde increased, and Tweek couldn't help but blame what had transpired on deck a week prior. He still felt lingering pangs of guilt. And the situation with Craig wasn't making it feel any better.

As a result he started fiddling with scraps around the ship, making little sculptures out of wire, wood, fish line, and other miscellaneous items. He hadn't done this in quite some time, so the tips of his fingers ached from working with such tiny pieces. But it kept his mind off of everything going on around him. It took him away from his anxieties, which was the best medicine he could get right now. It calmed his tics by taking his focus elsewhere, and concentrating so intently made him sink into a meditative state.

Unlike his paintings he used to do, his sculptures focused more on elements of things he could physically touch and see. Like right now he was working on a salmon. It helped him to interpret the world around him in a constructive manner, while also soothing his frayed nerves. They may not be perfect, exact replicas, but Tweek enjoyed making them, and that was all that mattered to him.

He kept them fairly secret, stashing them in a corner under the desk in the wheel house. But since Craig wasn't really speaking to him, what else would he do to occupy his scarce free time?

The days became shorter and shorter, and the light dwindled even though it was maybe early evening. It made it increasingly difficult for Tweek to work on his sculptures but he tried nonetheless.

This evening, Tweek knew when the Captain would be coming to seek shelter in the wheelhouse when he heard familiar footsteps trudge around to the door, he knew it was Craig. When the Captain opened the door, a blast of frozen air invaded the wheelhouse, making Tweek hide under his covers a bit more.

"Hi Craig," the blonde managed, still riding out the calm from his prior activity.

But just like the other nights, Craig ignored him and went straight for his futon, rolling it out and plopping down. The Captain laid with his back to Tweek, and didn't say a word.

Tweek's heart sank a little. He still hoped that Craig would return to their routine, but the tension was still present. He felt a little lost as to where to go from here. He thought that Craig liked him, but maybe now things had changed. Maybe now that Craig fully understood what a monster Tweek was, he didn't like him anymore.

His hug before had just been false hope and pity. It obviously meant nothing more than what it was – an empty gesture.

Tweek wished he could go back and savor the moment more than he had. At that time, he was too wrapped up in his emotions that he hadn't fully enjoyed the closeness, and now he regrets that.

He just wanted to make things right.

But he wasn't sure how, or where to even begin if Craig wouldn't talk to him.

He shivered a bit and cuddled into his blankets, facing away from Craig. He would probably lay awake for a while. His insomnia was getting worse, and he knew Craig had it too.

It only reinforced the idea that Craig was pretending to sleep in order to ignore Tweek.

* * *

><p>Craig wandered around in the blackness of his thoughts with his eyes closed, trying to block out the outside world.<p>

This was far more comforting than what greeted him each day.

Ever since he talked to Clyde, his emotions were going berserk. He didn't understand them, nor did he know how to control them. Whenever he thought about the idea of _liking_ Tweek, it sent him reeling. If the mere notion of it made him feel this way, then how could he expect to deal with them around Tweek?

He did the only thing he knew how to, which was to withdraw. If he shied away from Tweek, then he wouldn't have to deal with the nagging in his gut. It was the only way he could control some of what he felt. He didn't like not being in control of himself. He _hated_ it, but even shutting Tweek out wasn't working.

Tweek always tried to speak with him like usual, and it tore his innards out when he couldn't respond. It hurt him even more when he could sense how sad it made the blonde. It didn't make any sense, and there seemed to be no way around it.

But he didn't know how to address these roiling sentiments.

He picked and picked his brain, trying to think of ways he could let them out, but it was as if there was great dam holding back everything. Even if he did find a way, what would happen from then on? Where would he expect this to go?

He had no idea what this even meant in terms of their…friendship. Was that what he should call it? Because they sure as hell weren't acquaintances anymore. This relationship felt different than Craig's relationship with Clyde, who was more like his brother in a sense.

The frustration this caused the Captain made him want to tear his hair out for lack of a better outlet. He could think of all of these different ways to express any other feeling. But this one left him stumped.

Craig's thoughts were interrupted by the sounds chattering, accompanied by short quick breaths. He felt Tweek's body spasming against the floorboards, his muscles desperately looking for heat.

Craig was hardly surprised.

The guy had barely any body fat and he was practically skeletal. Tonight was damn fucking cold, Craig could feel it in feet, but he was certainly not as cold as Tweek appeared to be.

The Captain rolled over, facing the blonde. Tonight, the clouds mostly covered the moon, but there was just enough moonlight escaping the sky that he could make out Tweek's shuddering frame. They didn't have anymore blankets to spare, so he couldn't just give him another one.

The Captain knew what he had to do.

It actually made him nervous, because he didn't know how his feelings would react. They already felt squirmy and wriggly in his stomach; he didn't want to handle what may result from the close contact.

But, he remembered how it made him feel when Tweek was crying, and he hugged him. How in that moment he felt ok with him being so close. Maybe the only way to cope with these feelings was to dive in headfirst and just suck it up.

It seemed like the only way to satisfy the nagging.

"Come here. You're freezing." Craig finally said. The chattering didn't cease, but Tweek did try and say something. The words were completely unintelligible from his shivering. "I said, just come here. It's fucking cold."

The blonde flipped over and scuttled closer to Craig, he obviously was too cold to argue. Craig flipped up the edge of the blanket showing Tweek to sneak underneath. He snagged Tweek's blanket and threw it over the both of them, increasing the amount of insulation. The blonde's shivering body scooted closer and closer to Craig, and the Captain could really feel how fucking cold he was.

"Jesus Christ, how'd you get so cold?" Craig whispered, a shiver wracking through him. The coldness from Tweek was permeating Craig. It was like trying to warm an ice block.

Once again, Tweek's jaws chattered so violently that he couldn't get any words in. It seemed as though his vocal chords were constricted and unable to produce sounds that formed words.

There was little space between them, and although Craig tried to donate his body heat, there simply wasn't enough to spare in the gap that separated them. When Tweek's shivering didn't subside, he reached over and forcefully moved the blonde to face away from him and moved his body closer, pressing flush against Tweek's back. When he made this contact the first thing he felt was his heart sinking deep into his chest, beating deeper and louder, so loud that he thought the blonde would hear. His hand rested awkwardly on Tweek's upper arm, in a way, trying to lessen the quaking. And while thick clothing divided them, the way in which their bodies fit together made Craig's body scorch. Although his extremities were tingly, his core was aflame and alive with the emotions he had tried so hard to avoid.

Craig worked hard to suppress the coolness of Tweek's body and replace it with the heat of his own. His efforts proved worthwhile when the shivers started to subside and Tweek's body started to generate heat as well. There was calm between them, as both of them basked in the new found warmth.

"Thanks," Tweek sighed as his aching muscles relaxed.

Craig didn't say anything. He couldn't even get himself to move. There was too much going through his mind. When the silence prevailed he felt Tweek slump again, disappointed. He mentally kicked himself, could he really do this right now?

"Are you okay?" Craig said gruffly, not wanting to back down now. When he noticed Tweek perk back up, he felt better about pursuing conversation.

"Yeah, I'm better now."

Craig first noticed how calm and collected his words were when they escaped his lips. Maybe he was just tired?

"Are _you_ okay?" the blonde followed, understanding there was tension. Craig didn't know how to respond, because he _didn't_ know if he was ok, but he went with his instinct.

"Yeah."

"You don't seem like it," Tweek observed carefully, not wanting to provoke anymore of the cold shoulder he had been receiving the past few days. Craig wasn't surprised that Tweek had picked up on it. He was being fucking deliberate about avoiding Tweek. But Craig was caught between a rock and a hard place, and now, there was nowhere to go but forward.

"We'll find out, I suppose…" Craig muttered moving the arm he was laying on to fit comfortably under his head. His other hand still awkwardly placed on Tweek's upper arm. "You aren't stuttering."

This made Tweek stiffen a little, but he quickly recuperated.

"Well, um, I've been doing some mini-sculpture…It helps t-to calm my anxiety." Tweek said, slipping up only a little, it is a great improvement from his normal talk. "My anxiety m-makes my tics much worse, but when I do something that t-takes my focus away, and let's me get out m-my anxiety, I can control myself much better."

Craig's hand twitched on Tweek's arm.

"Mini-sculpture?" the Captain questioned further.

"Yup, like with scraps I f-find on deck, I like to do animals." Tweek felt oddly calm in close proximity to Craig, who had been ignoring him. But he could tell that something still wasn't right, however he was just relieved that Craig was actually talking to him again.

"Hm,"

"Craig," When Tweek said his name it made his heart jump, "I'm just r-really happy you're talking t-to me again…I'm sorry you aren't okay, man…" And of course, the blonde had somehow managed to pull at each and every one of his heart strings.

The Captain nodded, hoping the blonde would feel his response.

Just as he was about the close his eyes, he felt cool finger tips brush against his own fingers that rested on Tweek's arm. They were timid and unsure, ready to pull away at the slightest move. They stroked his fingers a few times before they tried to back down, almost defeated.

But Craig automatically shifted his hand to touch Tweek's which had been moving away. He caught the blonde's fingers, and held them gently, waiting for Tweek to reclaim them. But when he didn't take them back, Craig swept his thumb over the pads of Tweek's digits, perhaps trying to rectify his obvious mistake of avoiding him. His extended arm draped around Tweek and pressed their hands to the blonde's chest, still holding on.

His heart was pounding, and the lump in his throat threatened to break out.

There was absolutely nothing like this feeling in the entire world. And when Tweek squeezed his hand it was as if nothing else could have made more sense to him.

He couldn't explain how his gut was roiling. He didn't understand it, how such a simple gesture could ignite such powerful emotions.

And it didn't just make his abdomen writhe; it also made him feel more at peace.

In some strange way, learning more about Tweek and his past lessened Craig's own burden, as if just knowing that Tweek understood what it was like to experience such horrors was what he was searching for. Being able to empathize with Tweek was something that he hadn't been able to do before with anyone else. No one aboard the ship had ever shared their stories in a place where Craig could hear them, not that it bothered him at the time, but it caused him to be inexperienced with empathy.

Knowing how Tweek felt made him feel better. It reminded his weary mind that he wasn't alone, which was something that he had battled with for years. It utterly exhausted Craig carrying around the extra baggage day to day. And it was part of the reason he didn't sleep well, or why he completely shut down.

His problems still seemed miniscule to what side effects Tweek endured. From what Tweek told him he already had General Anxiety Disorder among other health issues, which used to be controlled with medication. Craig can't imagine what the trauma must have done to him. He already seemed so unhealthy that when he told Craig that he was doing mini-sculpture to help his nerves, it relieved him. The effects were very obvious – less stuttering, less tics – and that was good sign in regards to his anxiety.

Craig jolted back into reality when Tweek squeezed his fingers twice. Feeling like he should, he returned the gesture, which made the blonde hunker down, snuggling into the futon that was barely large enough for the both of them.

Craig ultimately felt conflicted. It was hard for him to just 'go with the flow,' or so to speak. He liked things static and unchanging, and Tweek had completely flipped his world upside down. The blonde hurdled brand new emotions and circumstances at him, and it exhausted Craig relentlessly. It was impossible to predict how Tweek would make him feel next, or what he would do to cause the feelings. It grated his mind like a nails on a chalkboard, incessantly begging for recognition.

Craig's nose became itchy from Tweek's hair. But he didn't scratch it. He ignored it to avoid making Tweek move from his comfortable position flush against Craig. Instead, he breathed in through his nose and allowed Tweek's musty scent to overflow his senses.

He liked it.

Usually Craig couldn't discern saltiness from being constantly surrounded by it, but he could smell a hint of brackish water laced through Tweek's hair. It comforted him in an unexpected way.

The Captain was also completely aware of how spooned together, every dip and curve complemented each other's bodies, allowing them to meld together like a single organism. He felt even closer by how his hand tucked Tweek's to the blonde's chest. Craig tightened his arm around Tweek, drawing him nearer.

It made him feel so fucking weird inside that he could jump up and call it quits right then and there. But the nagging wasn't bugging him like before; it appeared satisfied with Craig's current decision, which was enough to keep the Captain anchored to the futon, unmoving. He resolved that now there was no turning back, he needed to confront what made him squirmy, and to stop being a wuss about it.

Craig decided that withdrawing wouldn't solve a damn thing. If he really wanted to understand himself, he needed to confront Tweek about what…_this_ was.

But for now, he settled in, trying to erase the thoughts running through his mind. He'd rather focus on how his body pressed up to Tweek, and how absolutely right it felt.

Yeah, he'd just go with that for now.

* * *

><p>Clyde woke up uncomfortable.<p>

It was fucking cold in the main cabin, in spite of all of the bodies occupying its space. He wrapped up a little tighter in his blanket, giving him temporary relief, but he was cold again in a matter of seconds.

He opened his eyes to the darkness of the main cabin. When they adjusted, he could see that it was daytime from the light seeping underneath the door frame. He sighed. Maybe if he jogged a little he'd warm back up. No one else seemed as cold as he did, when he glanced around at the lumps beneath the blanket piles. But he supposed that it was his own fault, considering he was always too nice when it came to people asking for more blankets. He'd given up one too many, apparently.

Clyde grouchily swung his legs over the edge of his top bunk, careful not to slam his head against the low ceiling. He slunk down over the edge, minding his foot placement to avoid waking anyone else. The brunette was already dressed, shoes and everything due to time of year. He never went to bed without his shoes or else his feet would freeze.

Quietly, Clyde exited the main cabin, making his way onto the deck. He stretched out his limbs in the crisp, chilly air. It wasn't much better outside, which he figured, but at least out here he could jog in place or something and warm his core temperature up.

He started lifting his knees one by one, jogging in place, struggling to remain fairly quiet. But he managed to make his way over to the wheelhouse where he wondered if Craig was as cold he was this morning. In fact, it was strange that Craig wasn't awake already; he was always the first one up.

Clyde sauntered towards one of the grimy windows, still raising his knees up, to glance inside.

Well, that's exactly why he wasn't cold.

He saw Craig and Tweek under the blankets together, their knees tucked and Craig's face nearly covered by Tweek's wild blonde hair. He felt his legs stop moving and realized he was just staring at the two of them.

He looked away, unable to stare any longer because it felt like he was looking at something incredibly intimate.

Clyde wasn't stupid, and he knew that they were probably like that for warmth, but he couldn't help feeling like there was something sickly sweet about the way they were spooned together.

Craig had to like Tweek. There was no other explanation for what he saw.

The brunette felt a smirk tug at his lips.

Hot diggity damn. Clyde never thought he see the day when stone cold Craig found someone he liked. The odds were certainly stacked against him, but some fucking sign from God brought Tweek to them for a reason.

And who would have guessed that it would be Tweek, the stranger they picked up in the ocean? He definitely couldn't have predicted that.

Clyde did notice however that after they had their talk, Craig was much more distant from Tweek than normal, like, he actually went out of his way to avoid Tweek, which was odd. But those worries were shattered when he saw them in the wheelhouse.

The brunette was happy for Craig, it was the only thing he could have hoped for his friend; was just to be happy. Craig had been depressed for far too long and no one could do a god damned thing about it, at least until Tweek came along.

Clyde chuckled to himself. He still couldn't get over the fact that Craig would like such a strange individual. But he guessed that it would've taken someone extraordinary to catch his interest.

While his legs moved again to increase his body temperature, he started thinking about Bebe and her pregnancy. She had a tiny baby lump, nothing you could notice from afar, but she proudly displayed it day to day. So far things had been going smoothly, her ration was increased, and she took more care of herself than she did before.

Clyde sighed.

She was such an attractive lady, and he almost envied Kenny for his romps with her, but he attributed his jealousy with the lack of women aboard. He'd consider himself a damn sexy sonofabitch, but Bebe's tastes were definitely more like Kenny's type, so it made sense that she took an interest in him.

Sometimes it was frustrating, being around the same people every day. Mostly because he'd get horny as fuck and know that there was no one aboard that'd sleep with him. Honestly, he could go for a guy at times because he was so damned desperate. But it always ended the same – a quick jerk with mental images of awesome tits and then he'd get on with his life and try to forget that there was no one that would have sex with him. Bebe was with Kenny, and it seemed like a monogamous relationship. And Wendy was definitely into Stan, even though he had no clue whatsoever. Clyde doubted Wendy would sleep with him anyway. She never showed interest in him before, and he didn't want to embarrass himself with a born to fail proposition. He was twenty two and still a virgin, and for whatever reason that bothered the shit out of him.

This was Craig's fault, if he hadn't seen him cuddling with Tweek, he wouldn't be thinking about how lacking he was in the romance department. However happy he was for Craig, he was still ultimately jealous.

Clyde wished that maybe a beautiful young woman would drift aboard next and be totally into him. Ugh, if only he were as lucky as Craig.

But his wishful thinking aside, he thought that things on the ship seemed to be getting better. Bebe's pregnancy was going well, the crew was cooperating, Craig finally becoming a human again. It was all super exciting, and even though this winter started off with a harsh beginning, he felt like there would better things to look forward too.

God, he hoped so.

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><p><strong>AN: What did you guys think of this chapter? What do you think will happen next? I'd love to hear your comments!<strong>

**I have to thank my absolutely wonderful Beta scarlettshazam first and foremost because she has taken the time to help me improve and I am eternally thankful for the work she has put into editing for me. I strive every day to become a better writer!**

**A big round of applause for my reviewers for reading and encouraging me to continue: cupcakeattack, xSucksToYourAss-marx, ChocolateMilkLOL, scarlettshazam, hootpoop12, Blah, greene, Hubajoob, and Kuutamolla!**

**ALSO, lot's of love for **xSucksToYourAss-marx who drew me a wonderful piece of fanart which can be viewed on my profile! It's my first piece of fanart ever and will hold a special place in my heart! Thank you!****


	10. Realization

**Chapter 10: Realization**

**Reminder that this fic is on the higher spectrum of "T" **

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><p>"Ugh, no, right in the lower back….ahhh, just like that," Bebe moaned, crouched over as Kenny worked his knuckles into her sore back.<p>

Due to her pregnancy, Bebe's lower back had been bothering her lately. Kenny moved his fingers over her flesh, working in small circles to alleviate some of the pain she was feeling.

Bebe smiled, "You know my tits hurt like a bitch too, maybe you could rub those after." She had a shit eating grin on her face. She loved teasing him, since he was such a good sport about it.

She couldn't help but feel tickled by the idea of teasing the shit out of him.

"If it's got to do with them sore babies then I'd be happy t'oblige," Kenny whispered huskily.

They were alone in the main cabin for now, a rare moment indeed, and if Bebe hadn't felt so shitty, they may have taken advantage. But for now she was just happy to be alone with her southern gentleman.

Kenny carefully massaged her, he knew exactly how she enjoyed being rubbed, firmly but soft enough to not hurt. She sighed when the ache began to diminish.

It was a dull soreness throughout the day, but she could tolerate it much more after being massaged.

The others were out fishing, but Bebe had been given permission to lay back today because she wasn't feeling well. Kenny took the opportunity to take care of her, permission or not. When she felt like she could handle the achiness she leaned back into Kenny's firm chest, her head resting on his shoulder. It didn't take long for his hands to move from her back to her stomach, and slowly drag up to her breasts. She loved his hands touching her, they were so much larger than her own, it allowed him to cup and grasp her body in places that made it feel like her whole being was in his hands.

If Bebe didn't know any better, she might have thought she had a hand fetish.

She leaned her head back, their necks touching while his ministrations led upward and over her breasts. Bebe could feel his warm breath ghosting over her collarbone, sending shivers straight to her groin.

But as soon as he started to massage her boobs, she realized that they were too tender to even be touched.

"No, this isn't working," she groaned petulantly, "They hurt too much."

Kenny didn't seem upset about this. Instead, he folded his hands over her belly and just held her that way.

"Damn it, I wish you'd feel better darlin'," Kenny said, nuzzling her neck. She exhaled softly and leaned into his touch.

"Me too…"

Kenny paused.

"We haven't picked out a name yet, you have any ideas?" he asked.

She didn't know what to say, she actually hadn't thought about it, even when she figured out she was pregnant. She was terrified when she first found out, and she still was.

And maybe that's why she didn't think of names.

There was so much uncertainty that surrounded her growing baby. Bebe didn't even know if it would survive, which killed her. She couldn't even bear to think about it. She tried her hardest to push the morbid thoughts out her head.

Picking a name was like crossing a sacred threshold. If there was a name for the baby inside her, then she wouldn't be able to turn back. The bridge harboring emotional attachment would be burned and she wouldn't be able to lose the baby without tearing out a piece of her.

Bebe doubted her ability to handle that.

Even with Kenny at her side, every step of the way, the road seemed daunting and frightening. But Kenny made it easier to step into the unknown, to sever the barrier between heartache and happiness.

With his support, she felt like she could take on what ever may come her way.

"I love the name Molly for a girl, but I don't know about any boy names, do you have an idea?"

Kenny hummed thoughtfully, "We could always name 'im Kenneth Jr.," she could feel his smile, "I guess I like Alex or Tim, but I don't know darlin',"

Bebe reached one of her hands up towards his head and scratched the nape of his neck where his hairline began.

"I don't mind Kenneth Jr.," she said, placing a kiss on his cheek. His face was stubbly with fine blonde hairs. They weren't very noticeable just looking, but up close you could really see the mini beard he sported. In fact, he was actually quite handsome with a short beard.

There was a timid knock at the door.

Of course everyone thought they'd catch them mid-coitus if they were alone in the main cabin. It was a valid assumption, but Bebe was definitely not feeling up to it.

"Yeah? You can come in," Bebe responded loudly. The door creaked open slowly to reveal Butters, Token, and Kyle. The boys looked in expectantly and looked pleased to see she was there. "What's up guys?" They must have taken a break from fishing.

Kyle spoke first, "Well we were wondering if you were feeling well enough to give us haircuts? Mine is really starting to bother me," Kyle said while holding his bangs up out of his face. His curly red hair was actually nice looking. It was a shame that he wanted to cut it out of his face.

The boys always came to Bebe for haircuts; she was the best at it. After a few failed attempts by their own hands, they decided to just let Bebe do it. She even had a special pair of scissors that she used for hair cutting. She kept them especially clean and sharp.

"Sure guys, why don't you go get comfortable on deck? I'll be out in a minute."

With lit up faces, they shut the door on their way out. Bebe smiled back and sat up, missing Kenny's warmth on her back.

"Duty calls my dear," she teased, before grabbing her scissors under her mattress. He grinned at her and gave her pat on the behind. She didn't mind. It was just flirting between them. From time to time she'd grab his ass from behind, catching him off guard. She enjoyed the surprise and lust on his face afterwards.

Whatever they were, she enjoyed his company and companionship. Bebe didn't know what to call them. She just liked him a lot, and felt _extremely _attracted to him. She didn't need a label for it to be real.

Regrettably, as she stepped outside, the biting cold air nipped at her exposed skin. Kenny followed close behind. The three boys sat on the deck expectantly, their hair already damp for her.

"Oh good! You guys remembered to wet your hair first. Kyle honey, I'll do you first," Cutting hair for her was easy. Her mother was a hairdresser and had taught her some important tips and tricks to hair cutting. It only took her several minutes to complete Kyle's hair. She moved swiftly on to Token's hair, which was especially undemanding because he had dreadlocks, but he preferred to keep them on the shorter side. Finally was Butters, who liked his hair a particular way, and Bebe had cut his hair so many times before she knew exactly how to cut it – shorter on the sides while shaggy on the top near the front.

She ruffled his hair when she was done, "There you go baby," she said sweetly, with a small smile on her lips.

The boys thanked her before they returned to fishing. She watched them as they crawled over the bow and into the dingy that waited for them below. Bebe wished she was feeling better so she could go along with them, but today wasn't her day.

Kenny grasped her hand as the looked over to the others sitting on the island. He understood her better than anyone else, and knew that she wanted to be involved with the others. He appreciably kicked the hair strands off to the side, to deal with later.

"It'll be alright, you'll feel better soon," Kenny assessed reassuringly. Bebe shivered a little and scuttled closer to Kenny, wanting the warmth he was providing earlier.

She took one last glance, catching the blue and yellow of the Captains hat peeking over the edge of the far window of the wheel house. There was a knowing expression on her face. She knew that Tweek was fishing with him today; it was awfully difficult to miss how often they were together recently. She noticed, along with everyone else how Craig's demeanor had changed, he didn't seem as moody or depressed like he did before. Bebe hoped that things would continue to change for the better. She smiled to herself before heading back into the main cabin with Kenny at her side.

* * *

><p>Craig jigged one the fishing poles that were propped up in front of him. He exhaled and watched his breath cloud the air, feeling the numbing effect of the cold.<p>

"My ass is n-numb," said the shivering blonde next him.

"Get over it," Craig replied crankily. He was just as cold. Tweek whined next to him for a moment looking conflicted before jumping up abruptly.

"I'll be right b-back!"

At one time, this would have startled the Captain, but by now he was used to Tweek's abnormal outbursts. Tweek actually asked Craig if he could stay aboard with him today, to which Craig reluctantly agreed. This caused a few odd looks, but whatever, Craig couldn't give a fuck less.

He couldn't figure out why Tweek would want to be on board with him. He was a boring-ass individual. Even when they talked in the evenings, he didn't think he was an engaging conversationalist. Whatever the reason, Tweek obviously didn't _mind_Craig's company. In fact, it seemed as though he preferred Craig over anyone else on the ship. It didn't make any damn sense.

Since the first time that Tweek and Craig shared the Captain's futon, they continued sleeping side by side. They huddled together under the cover of blankets for warmth. They didn't speak about it; they just naturally spooned together and slept that way.

Craig procrastinated horribly on bringing up his feelings He just didn't know how to bring it up. It seemed like such a pointless thing and perhaps a bit invasive. He didn't even know how Tweek would react.

It was so troublesome.

He groaned internally at this debacle right before Tweek returned, now huddled in a blanket. He had a content expression on his face as he plopped down next to Craig, close enough that he could feel the blanket's edge.

They sat comfortably in silence, holding their fishing rods, jigging them every so often. It was the type of activity that Craig preferred to do with Tweek, even though he admittedly liked chatting with him at night.

From the sky tiny snowflakes floated downward, some of the first of the season. It was very light, but when Craig looked over at Tweek he had this look on his face, like a child at Christmastime.

The blonde poked his tongue out to catch some snowflakes, in a way that reminded Craig of a five-year-old. It was fascinating, watching Tweek's expression of wonder. The blonde looked absolutely blissful. It was something that Craig thought that he could watch for days.

But as soon as the light snow came, it went, and Tweek was childishly saddened by it.

The night drew quickly over the horizon, and the cold forced the crew to call it quits and retreat indoors. Craig and Tweek fell back into the wheel house. The blonde was predictably freezing and swiftly dove under the blankets.

"Christ! It's f-f-fucking c-c-cold!" Tweek chattered. Craig couldn't argue with him. The cold had chilled him to the bone and he was eager to hunker down and warm up. Like usual, Craig settled under the blankets, pushing flush against Tweek. Except tonight, he was facing away from Tweek and his back was spooned by the bony blonde. Tweek's body cupped around him and sought warmth. It felt different, but equally as warm, especially in Craig's gut.

Once they warmed up underneath the blankets, Tweek began to speak, like he had come to every night.

"When do you think w-we'll have the first snow storm?"

Craig contemplated this, "Soon, I'm surprised we haven't gotten any already," which he was. It was strange for New England this time of year to not have any heavy precipitation.

"Even though the cold k-kind of bothers me, I like the snow."

"Hm."

"It's j-just so pretty when it falls from the sky, like little feathers, or something. I love th-the way it feels when the tiny flakes melt on my f-face. It's so relaxing."

Craig could tell Tweek was mesmerized with the snow, just by how he acted when the very few flakes fell earlier that day. However, one thing stood out about today in particular.

"Why did you want to stay onboard?" Craig asked, seemingly catching Tweek off-guard. The blonde shifted against him, which made his body sear red hot.

"W-well I like your company…" Tweek began, gulping in between, "I think y-you're cool."

This perplexed Craig.

"There are so many things wrong with what you just said," Craig told him, which made the blonde squirm uncomfortably, "Nobody thinks I'm good company."

Talking with Tweek made his verbal skills much better than before, a dramatic improvement from being quiet and moody all the time. But Craig was curious as to why Tweek would think such a thing. He _wasn't_ good company, in fact, he was probably the _worst_ company.

"You're quiet, b-but you're also really observant. I m-mean, it's pretty fucking cool that you're like, so in tune w-with the water. You see a s-storm coming when I see a wave, or you see fish, when I see none. You t-talk to me even though s-sometimes I think you don't want to. You t-treat me like a human being, even t-though I've shown you I can be anything but…I…I f-feel like you understand…"

Before Tweek could finish, Craig sat up violently, the covers flying off his body and the freezing air invading every piece of warmth on his body. It predictably startled Tweek, who yanked one of the blankets around his face while squeaking.

"Fuck! What was that for Craig?" the blonde yelped. But Craig didn't answer, he sat with a grimace that could scare the friendliest of people. "Uh, C-Craig?"

He ignored the cold as well as Tweek and tried to think. How in the fucking hell was he supposed to put into words what was going through his head? Because everything that he came up with just didn't explain what he was feeling properly, and that irritated the fuck out of him. Tweek just explained what he liked about Craig, why the hell couldn't he do it too?

Tweek sat up with him, wrapped in a blanket with a half angry, half worried expression. "What the fuck, Craig?"

When the Captain turned to look at the blonde, he noticed his dark blonde brows were furrowed; he traced his way down his face, over the peak of his nose, dipping into his perfect cupid's bow and back over the peaks of his lips.

But before he could even generate a thought, he was caught off guard by a swift and firm peck on his lips. Craig couldn't quell the emotions that had just boiled over and he reacted angrily.

The Captain irately tore Tweek off of him by grabbing onto the front of his shirt. Tweek grabbed hold of Craig's shirt sleeves as they were locked in a stalemate. Craig hung his head, his eyes wrenched shut.

There were so many thoughts and feelings trifling with his brain, he felt confused, excited, anxious, and frustrated. The mixture made him angry. Angry because he couldn't get a coherent thought in edgewise, and he didn't understand them. It then dawned upon Craig that Tweek kissed him.

Tweek kissed him.

He didn't know what the fuck he was supposed to do about it.

Craig couldn't discern whether or not the emotions he was feeling were good or bad. They all felt jumbled and confused within him. It started to make him lightheaded. He felt his knuckles go white and trembling gripping Tweek's shirt.

He willed himself to look up at Tweek, who still held firmly onto Craig's sleeves. His eyes were met with a softly pained expression on the blonde's face. His dark blonde brows, which were furrowed with frustration before, were now knit with anguish. His lips curled into a pleading frown.

Craig felt his body quake, and whether it was from anger or anxiety, he didn't know. But Tweek's bony fingers unfurled from Craig's sleeve and travelled upward and onto the sides of his face, cupping lightly.

The Captain didn't dare to move. He willed his muscles to stay frozen, or else he might push Tweek away a second time.

But Tweek was slow and comforting, and Craig felt his white knuckled grip loosen slightly. Even though Tweek was as tense as he normally was under pressure, he seemed to be pushing past it, creating a relaxing atmosphere. The blonde's face remained unchanging as his thumbs brushed Craig's cheekbones. Craig let his eyes fall the floor, unable to hold Tweek's gaze any longer. This was when he felt the blonde pull his head closer and rest his forehead against Craig's.

"I'm s-sorry…It's ok…" Tweek whispered, his anxiousness evident by how his voice trembled.

Craig's stomach flipped when he felt Tweek's timid lips pressed once more to his. Craig didn't know how to respond, so he didn't, he let Tweek simply push against his lips until be backed away, seemingly assessing Craig's reaction.

When Craig didn't lash out like he did the first time, Tweek kissed him again, but Craig pushed back. His gut was on fire and the smoke fumes had traveled to his head, making him dizzy. The cold didn't bother him much anymore.

It was simple kissing, just brushing their dry lips together. He didn't care about how chapped his lips were, or how fucking cold it was.

None of that mattered.

All he could focus on was the contact he was making with Tweek, how it made him feel, how such a small thing could make his entire world spin. He found himself pulling Tweek closer with every passing moment, their bodies rocking back and forth rhythmically.

Tweek's hands were buried in the Captain's hair underneath his hat, which was slowly slipping off. Finally their momentum let Craig crash Tweek into the cabinets behind him which allowed Craig to be the closest to the blonde yet. His hands were still firmly planted into fists on the front of Tweek's shirt, and he used it as leverage to get closer.

Craig wanted more.

A desire ravaged his being, a hunger he needed to satisfy. This was far more powerful than the earlier nagging. The only thing it wanted was to be _closer._

Craig parted his lips which allowed Tweek's to meld with his. His knee slipped between Tweek's legs as their pace began to quicken. Their breath was reduced to nothing more than short pants which fogged the air.

The Captain lurched forward, breaking any personal space that remained between them. Even though thick layers of clothing separated them, as soon as Craig ground his torso onto Tweek's, the contact fueled the fire even more. This elicited a fevered response from the blonde as well, who pushed back with all his might, his fingers pulled at Craig's ebony hair, the hat long gone.

Craig broke away to catch his breath, which seemed like he'd never get back, and he realized how uncomfortable his jeans were. His dick throbbed achingly, begging for Craig to continue the assault on Tweek's lips. Every touch, every slip of their lips seemed to go straight his erection. It was far different than getting a random boner during the day. This time it was being stimulated, an outside force which made it throb intensely. The Captain pressed their foreheads together, allowing their breath to mingle while Craig let his brain catch up with his body.

Time seemed to slow and for a moment Craig thought it had stopped completely, but he knew it hadn't when he finally registered Tweek's tense fingers lightly pulling his hair.

"Craig," Tweek beckoned softly.

Craig's throat felt too dry to give a response, but Tweek thankfully didn't wait for him to speak.

"Is this okay?"

The Captain could tell he was nervous by the way his words quivered through his lips. His own heart was pounding in his rib cage. He could feel it slamming like drums in his ears. What was he supposed to say?

Craig gave an unsure, curt nod. It was the best he could muster. He felt entirely immobilized.

Seemingly unconfident of Craig's answer, Tweek brought one of the hands that was buried in his hair down to his mouth and tenderly grazed his thumb over Craig's bottom lip. His thumb felt cool to his lips and the Captain suddenly remembered that it was fucking below freezing.

He didn't care. His face felt uncomfortably warm, and his gut was alive with burning coals. The sudden boldness of the blonde still had him shell-shocked, and he wondered what provoked it.

But instead of asking, he propelled his head forward and caught Tweek's lips, except this time he deepened the kiss by parting his mouth drawing the blonde nearer. It was like every emotion Craig felt led up to this moment. The moment he realized that he wanted Tweek unlike anyone else.

He wanted _this._

He wanted to be _closer_.

Their unpracticed lips smashed into each other, hard enough to bruise. What had started out as an innocent dry peck had turned into the sound of smacking lips and heavy breathing.

Craig's hands finally found a new home feeling the sides of Tweek's face. Under his palms he could feel the blonde's enviously soft and sparse stubble growing in. It starkly contrasted Craig's own dark and plentiful stubble.

When their momentum slowed, a calm settled their movements, but did not slow Craig's racing heartbeat or pulsating erection. They sat there panting, catching their breath, but also catching the cold. When Tweek's frame rattled with a shiver, Craig thought it best to get back under the covers. He reluctantly pulled away from the blonde to grab the remaining blanket and wrapped it around them both.

There was an awkward space between them, which neither of them acknowledged. They were both quiet and when Craig looked up at Tweek's face there was a tiny smirk on his lips.

Craig swallowed loudly trying to coat his vocal chords so he could speak, "What?"

He could practically hear Tweek's embarrassment, when the blonde avoided his eyes, but the smirk still firmly planted on mouth.

"N-nothing."

Craig felt Tweek's cold, thin fingers seek out his own and squeeze twice. The Captain returned the gesture. They were quiet when they sunk down onto the futon, still a little distance between them, as if it was already taboo to admit. But Craig didn't feel it taboo, he was still reeling from everything that had happened so quickly.

He couldn't get over how_ amazing _it felt.

But his still and silent demeanor must have irked Tweek, "Um, Craig? I'm sorry d-did that. I just—ngh—I don't know, it f-felt right, if you know what I mean…"

"Don't be sorry."

"Okay, I'm not."

And for some reason, this made Craig smile. A true, and genuine smile graced his sharp features, and it felt _good_.

Craig couldn't remember the last time he felt this _good _about life.

Tweek looked up him with a mildly shocked expression, but it quickly left his face when Craig pulled him closer. Tweek's face was pressed against the Captain's neck and collarbones while Craig's head rested atop Tweek's. Their legs entangled with each other as they got comfortable.

They basked in each other's aura as they drifted off the sleep, Tweek being the first one to go surprisingly. He remarked how Tweek's tiny snores slipped out as he passed out. The nagging in his chest was no longer there, and he felt satisfied with Tweek in his arms. Like nothing could have made more sense to him.

With Tweek, Craig finally felt liberated.

He finally felt _alive._

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><p><strong>AN: Oh my lanta, was this chapter difficult to write. I mean I spent so much time re-writing parts because they didn't seem right, but thanks to my lovely beta scarlettshazam, you have this decent chapter to read ;P. SHE IS WONDERFUL, GO READ HER STUFF!<strong>

**Anyway! Thank you to my beautiful reviewers!: Kuutamolla, hootpoop12, xSucksToYourAss-marx, ChocolateMilkLOL, scarlettshazam, FunnyHats, TheDoomedOrangeParka, and Sexy And I Know It. **

**God, you guys are the best, Thank you so much for encouraging me, I love you all so much!**

**Comments/suggestions are highly encouraged!**


	11. Ominous

**Chapter 11: Ominous**

**NOTICE: This chapter is rated M**

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><p>Tweek daringly leaned over the bow, looking into the deep blue water below splashing against the hull.<p>

He was admittedly bored.

The blonde sighed as the cold brackish air bit at his face. Sometimes he couldn't control the urge to get up and look at everything, especially when he felt this bored.

What surprised him though, was how much his anxiety had waned over time. Sometimes it felt like he'd always feel that way, like it'd never stop. But since being on board, his tics and twitches had decreased, he was able to speak a full sentence without stuttering.

He felt on top of the world.

Tweek thought it had to do with having shelter, safety, and more recently stable relationships in his life. While before the disaster he still felt many of the symptoms that he'd felt prior, but they had worsened considerably after the catastrophe. He started to feel relatively normal again. As normal as one could be after such trauma and as normal as a person like him could carry on.

Tweek's wandering eyes caught sight of red on the side of the hull. His first instinct was to assume it was blood, which made his heart palpitate. But upon further inspection he recognized them to be letters. It spelled, _Ruby_.

Ruby?

Was that the name of the boat? He'd never seen the letters before, and he wasn't sure what they meant. Craig had never mentioned anyone named Ruby before.

Tweek resisted the urge to ask immediately and tucked it away for later.

He started to feel dizzy from the blood rushing to his head, so he stood up straight and looked back at the Captain, who was fishing with lures today. He jigged the line so methodically; his years upon years of practice were evident by his precisely timed movements.

Craig constantly impressed him. Tweek wasn't lying when he told Craig he thought he was cool. He honestly did. It was the doubt Craig had about himself that bothered him a bit. So many people relied on him for guidance, and maybe that's why Craig always questioned himself. But Craig was good at what he did, and Tweek wished he could get the Captain to realize exactly how important he was to the crew.

Tweek was mesmerized by how concentrated Craig got, he never got too engrossed in anything, so watching him so utterly focused was different.

The line tensed and the rod dipped alerting Craig that he had a bite. He jerked the rod back and reeled in standing up to drag the fish up and over the bow. Tweek excitedly helped pull the wriggling fish up, Craig allowing him to hold the fish up by the line.

"Nice catch!" Tweek said, facing Craig with a giant grin showing off his slightly crooked teeth. Tweek swore he saw Craig's mouth twitch upward, but it was gone as soon as he blinked.

They were very close in height, Craig maybe had a couple inches on him, but not much. The Captain reached out the grab the line so he could unhook the fish, but his fingers gingerly brushed against Tweek's while taking it away, making Tweek's cheeks burn.

After their kissing encounter the other night, they had started developing a strange relationship. They treated each other like normal during the day, but behind the wheelhouse doors Craig would transform into the man that only Tweek knew and understood. Craig had been hesitant to try and kiss him again, but once they had started, it escalated quickly to the fervor they had the first night. Tweek could tell the more the Captain became comfortable with the actions, the bolder he acted.

They hadn't done anything more than simply kiss, and the first time Craig tried to touch Tweek sensually he retracted his hand like he had touched a scorching surface. Tweek never pressured Craig to do anything, even though he wanted to desperately ravage the Captain. He hadn't felt these feelings about a man before, but he grew up with his parents instilling values that it was okay to feel things like that about someone of the same gender. His parents were fairly liberal, for which he was eternally grateful.

He remembered asking his parents one day about one of their male friends, who had a husband instead of wife. He didn't think it was wrong, but he was curious, he didn't know that men could have boyfriends instead of girlfriends, and women could have girlfriends instead of boyfriends. His parents thoughtfully explained to him that it didn't matter what gender, race, or age you were, as long as you were consenting adults that loved each other, then it was perfectly normal and ok to feel that way about another person.

His parents' supportive attitude was what got him through any turmoil he felt about Craig, and how he ultimately came to terms with his attraction to the Captain. Even though they weren't there to guide him, their lessons stayed with him and helped him to this day.

When he kissed Craig the first time, it was one of those moments where immediately after he went "Oh shit." Tweek had absentmindedly fucked up, or at least that's what he thought at first.

Tweek couldn't put his finger on one defining attribute of Craig that attracted him so fiercely. When he first met Craig, he scared the living shit out of Tweek. Sometimes he still got those dark expressions that make Tweek think he'll get sucked into oblivion if he looked in his eyes, but he noticed they were happening much less frequently. Maybe he was just used to his milder expressions, he didn't know.

Craig was difficult.

No matter which way you looked at it, Craig was dark and complex, and even though Tweek watched Craig unfold into a new person in front of his eyes, there was still much he didn't know about him. He knew from previous conversation that his personal life before the disaster was very much a secret.

It only bothered Tweek a little. But he understood because talking about sensitive topics was an area that he's all too familiar with. Telling people about your mistakes, misfortunes, and macabre was not an easy task, and for someone like Craig, it seemed like it would be ten times more difficult than with a regular person.

But he liked Craig, he really did, flaws and all. If no one had flaws, then how could they be human? Tweek knew how it was to be different, and he'd give the Captain the same dignity and respect that Craig showed him. He constantly found himself orienting his body to be nearest to the Captain without drawing much attention, he wanted to be near Craig intimately.

"What?" Craig asked standing back up after putting the fish in a bucket. Tweek realized he was ogling the lithe Captain and tensed at his piercing gaze.

"Ehm, nothing," the blonde replied while turning and scratching his head. He internally wiped his forehead, being confronted by Craig always made him nervous, no matter how innocent the inquiry.

Tweek reluctantly went back to jigging his line alongside Craig in silence. Some time went by before Tweek was taken off-guard.

"Hey, wanna try something?" Craig said out of the blue.

Tweek cocked his head, "uh, ok?"

The Captain pulled out his hunting knife and grabbed the steadily dying fish from the bucket. He placed the fish on the deck and with a sturdy THWAK, its head came clean off. Tweek couldn't help but cringe, it was kind of gross. He didn't exactly like watching where his food came from but he swallowed his disgust out of necessity.

At least Craig had the courtesy to take its head off before ripping out its guts.

After he cleaned the fish he sliced two thin pieces from the body and handed on the Tweek. The blonde took it, eyeing it skeptically.

"Try it," Craig encouraged, graciously eating his piece.

Tweek look on a bit grossed out, but unfortunately remembered he'd eaten _much_ worse. It was kind of slimy but it didn't smell terrible, so he put it in his mouth and chewed.

The texture was strange, like stringy, tough, gelatin. However, it didn't taste as fishy as the dried variety.

Craig looked at him expectantly, he raised an eyebrow in question.

Tweek nervously swallowed the raw fish, "not bad," he replied simply. This seemed to please Craig who put away the rest of the fish. Tweek admired how unselfish the Captain was, it went against many of his own instincts which was to gather as much food for himself as possible.

Tweek sighed and returned to fishing.

The day dragged on and Tweek didn't catch a damn thing. Neither did Craig after the first few he reeled in and it seemed that the rest of the crew didn't fare well at all.

That night most of the crew finished their meal hungry, it made everyone especially cranky that evening. Tweek stayed behind in the main cabin while Craig remained in the wheelhouse. He knew that Craig liked having alone time, much more than being around people, but that didn't stop Tweek from feeling like he should be alleviating Craig's loneliness.

They sang a few songs, and played a few games, mancala being a popular one. It was easy to play with different colored stones as opposed to marbles which were near impossible to find. Tweek enjoyed hanging out with the rest of the crew, he felt like he belonged there.

Tweek knew how important these games and activities were to the crew and he felt honored to be invited in.

When the games died down everyone settled into the bunks and they began to talk about their day.

"I don't know about you guys, but I didn't catch shit today," said Stan, who ran his fingers through his razor straight black hair.

Kyle, who was sitting next to him, added, "yeah I didn't catch much either…" There was a general consensus among the crew that today had been miserable fishing. It was disappointing, since when they got to the Gulf of Maine, their fishing had improved tenfold. Tweek figured everyone had gotten used to the idea of plentiful food available, and now that their streak of luck was dying out, they had become irritable.

"It's alright guys, we've been through worse, and we'll get through this just like we have before," Clyde reassured them all.

Tweek looked over at the brunette. He'd been giving Tweek weird looks and smiles lately. It kind of freaked him out; it felt like Clyde knew something that he didn't and it made him queasy. But right now Clyde looked sullen and anxious, even though his words were sturdy and encouraging. Tweek understood that he was just as hungry as the rest of them, and that even though he wanted to support Craig and his decisions the hunger made it hard for him to do so. The blonde knew that Clyde was Craig's first man, the first person he'd go to in crisis or if he needed someone to rely on, but seeing him from this point of view disheartened him. And he knew the rest of the crew could sense Clyde's insecurity.

"What happens when we get stuck in the ice and don't have any food to last us?" Kyle said painfully, his face screwed into a grimace.

"I'll just go spear fishin' under the ice. No worries," Kenny said jokingly, trying to lighten the ambiance, although no one seemed to be in a joking mood.

Tweek started scratching at his arm. The atmosphere started to get tenser than he'd like, so he took a moment to leave the main cabin as quietly as possible. His presence didn't go unnoticed, however.

"'Night Tweek, sweet dreams," Clyde cooed playfully. Then all eyes were on Tweek as he lingered by the door. The blonde stared into the seemingly never ending sea of eyes, and nervously gulped.

"Ehm, g-goodnight," Tweek replied before he bolted out of the door and into the freezing night.

Clyde could certainly make his life awkward.

Tweek had to take a piss. He cautiously stepped over to the bow, whipped himself out of his pants and closed his eyes, counting to ten. It was only way he could force himself to stay out in the dark without protection. He really didn't like the fucking dark, even as kid, he always got chills down the back of his neck when he was walking in the dark. He got that feeling that something was going to grab him by the feet and drag him into the unknown while gnawing his limbs off. It did matter how old he was, the dark fucking scared him. As soon as he finished, he dashed over to the wheelhouse, making a haphazard entry as always.

He took a few deep breaths calming his nerves before opening his eyes to Craig sitting up in the dark. He suppressed a shiver. Even though Craig was notorious for being a creep in the dark, it still got Tweek every single time.

"Hey," Tweek said, rubbing his arms. He was anxious to dive under to covers and warm up with Craig.

The Captain nodded his head, "Hey."

The blonde made no pause as he greedily stole the covers, encircling himself in them. He knew Craig would join him momentarily.

He felt Craig hunker down next to him and hesitantly draw nearer. Tweek knew he would watch the Captain's transformation, a sight he didn't grow tired of.

It was all for him.

All for Tweek.

Tweek felt like the most important person in the universe during these times. But the greatest part about it, was that it was between the two of them, and no one else. Tweek knew that there was something unexplainable about their interactions, something that went far beyond trust and companionship.

No, Craig bared himself, allowing Tweek underneath and into the fragile innards. It went beyond understanding Craig's past and experiences, those weren't as important as how he displayed himself. Craig showed his weakness, his insecurity, his vulnerability. The Captain had allowed Tweek and only Tweek to see how defenseless he really was, and for this the blonde held Craig like no other in his heart and body. He would never exploit him.

He felt Craig's firm hand grasp his side, pulling him closer. The blonde turned his head towards the Captain when he felt lips descend on his own. Every time they touched lips it made Tweek's groin ache, it ignited a desire he hadn't felt with anyone else, not that he had much experience to go on. Growing up in a hostile environment for the majority of his life didn't allow him the luxury of finding a love interest. But even so, he knew what it was like to want, to lust after. Indulging those feelings was an excellent stress reliever. However, he hadn't been able to in quite some time.

Craig remained rigid, but his lips made up for it entirely. Even though his hand was stiff, his mouth moved softly over Tweek's, making the blonde melt into a pile of putty. Tweek reached up and slid his hand under Craig's hat, feeling his matted black hair, which was the perfect length to tug between his fingers. It earned him a strangled groan from Craig's throat when he pulled at the strands, making the Captain press even closer. Tweek smirked against Craig's lips, he loved knowing that only he could make Craig do that. He decided to take it a step further and pull Craig down onto him so the Captain's knee fell between his own. Tweek felt his body slowly lower evenly onto his own and as soon as they were flush his nerves lit up like the fireworks.

Fuck, it felt good.

Apparently Craig thought the same thing because his body jerked a little when they connected sending waves of lust straight to his growing erection. The Captain detached from Tweek's lips and the blonde felt the cold invading the warmth that Craig had provided. His disappointment vanished when Craig did something new.

Craig attacked his neck with rough kisses and what Tweek could have sworn were teeth grazing the tender flesh over his jugular. He couldn't hold back the sharp intake of breath when Craig confirmed the use of his teeth by biting down just hard enough to hurt. Tweek's hands flew to Craig's back grasping his jacket, desperately clinging to him.

It felt fucking amazing.

Craig's hot mouth scorched against the blonde's cool skin which only enhanced the feeling of the Captain's ravaging lips. Before he could even adjust to the feeling of Craig biting down he felt his searing hot tongue lap at his skin, lightly sucking at it as if he were covered in honey. Tweek arched his body grinding even closer to the Captain which he readily returned, grinding Tweek into the futon. This started rhythmic thrusting as Craig pulled at Tweek's shirt collar, exposing more flesh for him to suck on.

Tweek felt lightheaded from all of the blood rushing elsewhere. They had never done this before, and every touch and kiss felt even better in the heat of the moment. Tweek knew that he could tell Craig to stop and he would, but sometimes he wondered if Craig was okay with what they were doing, no matter how many times he initiated it or how enthusiastic he was, Tweek needed verbal confirmation. Everything they were doing was completely new to both of them and it was important to Tweek that Craig was comfortable.

"Is this okay?" Tweek choked out, his throat hoarser than he expected.

To which the Captain replied, "Yes," between kisses on his neck.

Every thrust the Captain's thigh would grind against the blonde's blatant erection that tented his oversized jeans. Tweek could also feel Craig's boner digging into his hipbone, and the combined sensations along with Craig's sucking felt like they could send him over the edge.

Craig lifted his head and gave Tweek the most lustful expression he'd ever seen on the Captain's face. In the dimmed moonlight he could see Craig's lips were glistening and swollen, slightly parted as his breath fogged the air surrounding them. His eyes were narrowed but they were unlike his scary expressions, he could only describe them as…hungry. Tweek lifted his face swiftly captured Craig's idle lips, setting them in motion once more.

The blonde needed him even closer. With that thought, he pressed his leg to Craig's right leg that was not between his thighs, urging it to join the other. Craig hesitantly complied and both of them let out soft groans when their erections ground against each other. Craig's reaction made Tweek want to become bolder, so he allowed his tongue to poke out and taste Craig's lower lip. His heart raced when the Captain returned his gesture while continuing to thrust gently. When their tongues met it sent a whole new wave of encouragement to his cock which twitched excitedly. Tweek nervously pressed forward letting their tongues mingle and slip around each other, it sent shivers down his spine.

The grinding of their hips became faster with each passing moment and Tweek felt his threshold growing ever nearer. Their breath grew ragged and their kisses sloppier, Tweek's hands buried themselves in Craig's hair effectively ridding him of his hat. Tweek bucked his hips when his orgasm approached, when Craig ground him down into the futon, he lost it.

"O-Oh, fuck," Tweek bit out as he broke away from Craig lips. He tugged Craig's hair while he rode out his orgasm, and apparently Craig wasn't far behind.

With a few more shallow thrusts Craig breathily moaned into the crook of Tweek's neck. His entire body shuddered against the blonde before he collapsed. Tweek could feel their hearts beating wildly together as they both caught their breath.

When Tweek finally caught his breath he realized his toes were numb. And while Tweek could enjoy some post-orgasm cuddling right now, he was not wearing underwear and didn't want to completely soil these pants.

"I'm not wearing underwear," Tweek sighed as he felt up Craig's back, loving how firm and strong it was.

This elicited a small snicker from the Captain which took him by surprise.

"Okay."

Craig lifted his body and sat back, undoing his jeans and taking off his boxers. Tweek couldn't help but stare while he did this, he'd only seen Craig naked once, and it was by accident, and only for a brief moment. His groin was shadowed but he could see the outline of his softening cock, which made Tweek's heart race. He thought about how that was just rubbing against him and how deliciously arousing it was…Tweek felt himself harden again.

Craig handed him his soiled boxers, "Use these."

Tweek cringed, but took them regardless, it was just a little semen, and he needed to clean up too. He quickly undid his pants and wiped up the mess the best he could inside his pants. He could feel Craig's eyes watching him, which strangely turned him on even more than he was. When he finished, he tossed the dirty boxers aside, the scent of cum still strong in the air. There was a pause before Tweek reached out to Craig who was now fully clothed and pulled him down onto the futon spooning him under the blankets. He liked being the big spoon.

He thinks Craig liked it too because he relaxed into Tweek's bony chest, and put his hand over the blonde's, wrapping it around his middle. He couldn't get enough of this feeling he had around Craig. It made him so incredibly happy. Even now a content smile plastered his face. As a few calm moments passed by, Tweek remembered earlier that day when he saw _Ruby_written on the side of the boat. Before he could use a verbal filter, it slipped out.

"Who's Ruby?" he asked innocently, but he felt Craig tense in his arms and pull away from their comfortable position.

Fuck, he shouldn't have asked, why the hell did he let that slip out? He was having a happy moment with Craig but he had to go and fuck it up. Shit.

"Why?" Craig responded darkly. Tweek wanted to retract his question so badly but he knew he couldn't.

"I-it was on the side of the sh-ship, and I was just c-curious. I shouldn't have asked. I'm sorry," Tweek pleaded. He didn't want to upset Craig with his mindless blabbering. He should have had way more tact than that.

After a few heavy moments, Craig answered, "she was my little sister." Tweek felt his skin crawl with curiosity and surprise. He couldn't believe that Craig was actually speaking about his past. He was stunned, which allowed the Captain to continue talking. "She was my best friend, and I let her die."

Tweek felt a giant lump settle in his throat, clogging any words he wanted to say. His heart pounded beneath his ribs as he held Craig's tense body even tighter than before. He noticed the Captain's body was trembling. It was so subtle that Tweek would have missed it if he weren't paying attention. Tweek felt Craig's fingers dig into the flesh of his hand, causing a minor amount of pain, minor to what Craig probably felt.

With a softly strangulated voice Craig continued, "I let her die right in front of me because I was too weak and helpless, and she had to suffer for that. My parents too. If I had been able to get free I could have beaten the living shit out of those fucking nomads."

Craig ripped away from Tweek embrace and sat away from him clawing at face. "I failed her, it's my fault she's dead," hysteria rose in Craig voice, "it's my fault."

Tweek didn't know what to say. The lump in his throat prevented him from speaking comforting words, but he also didn't know enough about what happened. He did know one thing, "It isn't your fault."

Craig didn't move and continued to mumble, "It's my fault that they blew her brains out all over the floor, it's my fault I couldn't save her, why didn't they kill me too? This is my punishment for being so weak, living in this God forsaken shit-hole."

Tweek tentatively touched the Captain shoulder, almost fearing what would happen.

Craig violently pulled away slamming his body into the cabinets, his eyes wider than Tweek had ever seen them, his face contorted into a tortured expression. The blonde regretted ever bringing it up, he should have waited.

"Craig."

He didn't answer, instead the Captain began pounding his fists into the wooden floor, shaking the entire area. Tweek grabbed his arm trying to stop his fists from connecting to the splintering floor. Craig pushed him away, "Fuck you!" He spat. But Tweek didn't give up. He roughly braced Craig by the shoulders and forcefully made him look him in eyes. Tweek may have been a bony twig, but he had muscle to back up his fiery attitude when the moment struck.

"You fucking listen to me. It is not your fault, Craig. What ever happened isn't your fault."

Craig fought back trying to push the blonde away again, "What the fuck would you know? You weren't there, you don't know what happened!"

Tweek felt his temper flare, "No! I don't know what happened, but what I do know, is how it feels to watch everyone you love fucking get shot in the head and then—ngh—beaten if they were still alive." Tweek shook Craig a little, his mind going in circles, "It's not your fault."

The Captain became enraged and pushed back with all his might, but the blonde braced himself before he was smashed into the floor unfortunately missing the futon. Craig raised his fist and Tweek closed his eyes, waiting for it to hit him in the face. When he felt the floor shake beside his head instead of his face he slowly peeled his eyelids open and looked up at the man hovering over him, straddling his thighs.

His black hair hung around his face and eyes were scrunched shut, one fist clenched next to his head, the other in Tweek's shirt. Tweek felt his gut twist. Craig was in pain, more pain than he'd ever seen the Captain endure. Craig lifted the fist on the floor and began to halfheartedly pound on Tweek's chest.

"Fuck…You…" Craig choked out. Tweek finally saw the strong Captain break. It seemed almost impossible for such a person to crumble, but it only proved that Craig was human after all.

Tweek reached up and touched Craig's cool cheek and the Captain lowered his head until it rested on Tweek's chest.

"I let her…die," Craig clenched the blonde's shirt, "Tweek, I'm a fucking failure."

The blonde cringed. It felt awful seeing him this way, his stomach twisting into knots.

"It wasn't your fault. You aren't a failure," Tweek said softly, wrapping his arms around his hunched figure. Craig didn't retort and for the time, Tweek watched the Captain sob uncontrollably, his anguished moans echoing off the walls of the small wheelhouse.

It felt like someone had taken a rusty piece of metal on jabbed it into Tweek's ribcage, twisting it between his ribs. Every smothered cry was like a haunting ghost which called out for its lost loved ones. Tweek held him close, trying to soothe the aching cries which he knew that would never be answered by the people Craig wanted.

The only thing he could do was give him everything that Craig had given to him when he had broken down, a sturdy shoulder to cry on.

When the sobs began to wane, Tweek heard Craig say, "I miss her so much, Tweek."

"I know," Tweek said just as softly while rubbing a small circle on his back. He threw the blanket over the both of them, even though his back lay on the stiff floor, he'd rather not move the both of them.

Tweek realized that this was why it felt like Craig understood him. Because Craig had seen and experienced death himself, he knew what it was like to see his family die in front of his eyes. He wouldn't wish that on his worst enemy.

When Craig's body finally stopped trembling and he settled down on top of the blonde, Tweek began to think that he more than just liked the man in his arms. He wanted to see him happy and take away all of the pain he suffered.

_Yeah_, Tweek thought as he pulled him in closer, he genuinely cared about Craig.

* * *

><p><em>Next day<em>

* * *

><p>Dangerous eyes watched Craig and Tweek on the deck of the vessel, eyes that belonged to none other than Eric, who kept stealing glances over his shoulder.<p>

"You okay Eric?" Butters asked timidly while watching the brunette's irate glares.

Eric grumbled, "Fuck off Butters," before returning to his fishing poles. He felt his blood pressure steadily rising with each moment.

That fucking high and mighty prick Craig thought he was better than everyone else, bossing everyone around like he fucking owned the place. Shit, he couldn't stand that asshole.

And that twitchy bitch made everything else fucking worse. His fucking sob story made everyone forget the fact that he's a psychopathic serial killer.

Eric ground his teeth so hard that it hurt.

Why could no one see things the way he saw them? It was like everyone around him fucking patronized him, like he was crazy. He wasn't the fucking crazy one; it was that goddamned twitchy asshole.

The brunette thought he would explode from the rage building inside him. What could he do about it? No one would listen to him. Eric glanced over at Butters, who was happily whistling. It made his stomach churn.

Butters.

Butters was the closest thing Eric had to a friend, and for some fucking reason that cheery dickhole would tag along with him wherever he went. The blonde may be the only one he could convince that things needed to change. But Butters was too emotional, he'd have to find a different way to persuade him…

From Eric's perspective, Craig was going soft. At least when he was a jackass all the time he was getting the job done. But now, he seemed to be making little mistakes here and there.

There were places where the fish had all but completely left and they had to dig into their stores of food. With full blown winter imminent, it made digging into their stock piled food one step closer to starvation.

Eric wasn't about to starve just because Craig couldn't fucking do his duty.

He angrily brainstormed for a moment before something popped into his head.

A brief moment of surprise washed over his face before it was replaced with a sickening smile.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Okie Dokie then! What are you guys thinking? What do you think will happen next? What are you hoping for?<strong>

**I'd like to thank my lovely beta scarlettshazam who had things going on in her life, yet still found the time to beta for me, SHE'S WONDERFUL go read her stuff!**

**I'd also like to thank my amazing reviewers: cupcakeattack, xSucksToYourAss-marx, hootpoop12, ChocolateMilkLOL, powderfaith, Kuutamolla, Hubajoob, TheDoomedOrangeParka, and scarlettshazam.**

**I would also like to give a special thanks to Funnyhatz and ChocolateMilkLOL for drawing me fanart for this! I LOVE THEM SO MUCH! The links on the profiles are broken but if you'd like to see them you can message me :)**

**Comments/Suggestions highly encouraged!**


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